To the Moon and Back
by Scarlett7
Summary: Seeking some relief from Season 9? Here you go. Set right after "The Purge". Sam's anger towards Dean has been lingering for days. But when a 5 year old version of Sam shows up at their door, both boys will learn a lesson about what it means to be a Winchester brother. A little bit of brother-fluff finally posted in ch 15! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

It was palpable. Something he could almost see hanging in the air around his brother's body. The guilt that Dean carried this time was immense and Sam knew- he _knew_- that the small bit of satisfaction he was finding in it was wrong. But at the moment, it wasn't something he could help. He was finally getting things off his chest and Dean was finally shutting up long enough to hear him. Hurting Dean was the only way to get his point across. It wouldn't be forever, just until it sunk in.

AC/DC blared on the radio as the Impala pulled up in front of their room at the Holly Motel off of a desolate highway in New Jersey. Sam had found them a possible hunt. Probably just a salt and burn, but he was trying to keep things simple while they worked through their other issues. They'd worked the case involving Garth and the werewolves, and the Pishtaco case had gotten wrapped up, but Sam made sure he kept their situation in the forefront of Dean's thoughts. Every time he sensed Dean starting to get even slightly comfortable, he made sure to remind him that this wasn't going to get swept under the carpet and forgotten about. He was serious. And the last real conversation they had had been pretty harsh. It had really knocked the wind out of Dean. Sam had caught the look of complete and utter devastation on Dean's face when he'd left the room. If he was being honest with himself, Sam had to admit that he did feel a little guilty about how he'd left things that night. But he also felt that was the talk that really drove his point home, so he wasn't quite ready to do or say anything just yet that would ease the sting he knew his brother was feeling.

Dean wasn't sleeping much, Sam could tell, and he probably wouldn't until the situation was resolved. _If_ the situation was resolved, Sam reminded himself. So for the time being, Sam figured simple was safer. Dean had started to argue that they could handle something much bigger than what Sam had found, but Sam just looked at him and Dean had shut up.

The sky had been getting darker and darker for the past hour and finally, the clouds had just opened up. Sam rushed out of the car and unlocked the door as quickly as he could, trying to avoid getting too wet. He noticed that Dean didn't move any differently than he would have on a normal day. He just let the rain soak him as he gathered his things from the car and walked to the already opened door.

Dean shed his rain soaked jacket and flopped down on one of the beds and pulled the phonebook out of the drawer of the nightstand. Thunder rumbled angrily in the distance. "I'm gonna order some food. You want anything?" His voice was monotone and he didn't look at Sam when he spoke.

"It's only like 4 o'clock. You're hungry already?" Sam asked, but then remembered he hadn't seen Dean actually eat anything all day.

Dean didn't answer him.

Sam sighed. His own guilt was finally starting to eat away at some of his anger. He truly didn't _want_ to hurt his brother. He was just so frustrated. No, he was far beyond frustrated. But looking at the forlorn expression on Dean's face..."You wanna just get a pizza?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Dean phoned in their order, threw on a dry flannel and went into the bathroom for a towel.

Sam turned on the TV and sat at the foot of his bed. A moment later, Dean poked his head out of the bathroom door and looked at Sam.

"Were you calling me?" he asked.

"No, I didn't say anything," Sam replied. "I just turned on the TV."

Dean stared at him for a moment. "Huh, I could have sworn... whatever." He tossed the keys to Sam. "Pizza place was pick up only. That place we passed about 7 or 8 miles back that way." He gestured vaguely towards the parking lot.

Sam glared at him. The guilt that had started to find its way into his heart was suddenly retreating. "Why do I have to go pick it up?"

Dean just turned back towards the bathroom, rubbing the towel over his hair. But Sam didn't miss the defeated posture, the downcast eyes... _Ok, no. I'm done feeling guilty about this_, Sam told himself insistently. Plus, he had worked hard on getting into the mindset that he would pick his battles and make them count. This didn't seem big enough to warrant anything more than a sigh.

He threw his wet coat back on and went out into the deluge. He was about to make a dash for the driver's side door of the car when something caught his eye. He moved cautiously around to the passenger side and was shocked to see a little boy sitting on the ground, shivering and pressed up against the wheel of the Impala, one hand on the door handle.

"Hey," Sam called out softly. "Are you lost?"

The little boy stood quickly and backed away from Sam.

"Hey, it's ok-" Sam put his hands out and squatted down. "I'm not gonna hurt you..."

The kid stepped forward again and tried to open the door of the car. It was locked and he looked desperately back at Sam. "I want my dad," he said tearfully.

"Ok, ok... Come on... I'll help you find your dad, ok? Why don't you come on inside and get out of the rain for a bit, huh? Then you can tell me where your dad is."

The kid looked about 5 years old, terrified, freezing and _strangely_ familiar. He appeared to be considering Sam's offer.

Sam stood slowly and backed up towards the door. "C'mon, it's ok..."

_God- this is awful, _ Sam thought, desperately hoping that no one was watching him lure a lost little boy into his motel room. And the kid looked like he knew darn well he shouldn't be going anywhere with a stranger, but he was so cold and so scared, he didn't know what else to do.

Dean looked up from the laptop as Sam opened the door and continued to cajole the little boy inside.

Sam glanced at him over his shoulder. "Lost kid in the parking lot," he said.

Dean shook his head and looked back down at the screen. "Well, take him to the front desk."

"Dean, it's pouring out there. He's soaking wet and- c'mon, buddy, it's ok... I'll bring him there after I get him dried off a little... there you go, kiddo... that's it, c'mon, I'll get you a towel, ok?"

Dean could see the kid standing by the door out of the corner of his eye. As he moved the cursor to bookmark the page he was looking at so he could help out, the kid let out a soft whimper. Dean's stomach turned to ice and every hair on the back of his neck raised at the sound. He looked up just as Sam crossed his line of vision with a towel. He tried to shake off the sudden rush of emotions he was feeling.

"Here you go, let's get you dried off, ok?" Sam said gently, still blocking Dean's view.

Dean just stared at the back of Sam's head, waiting for him to move. A feeling washed over him of such familiarity, and a protectiveness so intense, so _fierce_ it took his breath away. He had a sudden and overwhelming urge to shove Sam out of the way and take care of this kid himself.

"There, that feel a little better?" Sam asked softly.

There was a sniffle and a gasp. "I... want my brother..."

Thunder crashed outside and Dean stood up so suddenly that he knocked over the chair. It clattered to the floor with a bang and the kid scurried across the room and pressed himself up against the wall between the couch and the small side table, sobbing.

"Hey! Hey, c'mon, it's ok-" Sam called after him, restraining himself from chasing the kid. He shot a look at Dean who was standing frozen at the table staring after the little boy with a look on his face that Sam couldn't identify, but it didn't look good.

"What-" Sam frowned at him, confused.

And suddenly both boys' jaws dropped as the kid beside the couch started crying out at the top of his lungs, "DEEAANN!"

Sam stared at the kid, shocked. "How does he know-"

"Sammy?"

Sam turned to look at Dean when he heard his name.

But Dean wasn't talking to him. He was talking to the kid.


	2. Sammy?

**Writer's note**: Thank you SO MUCH for the kind reviews. I know it takes some time and effort to leave a comment, but I want you to know how much it means to me to know you're reading and enjoying the story so, really- thank you! I'm going to try to get all of the chapters posted before the next episode airs on the 25th at which time I'm sure they will ruin my whole story line like they did with my _Clouded Judgement_ story! But, this is turning out to be longer than I thought, so we'll see. Enjoy!

* * *

"Sammy?" Dean asked under his breath as he stepped forward towards the little boy shivering up against the wall.

"Dean!" the kid called again between sobs. But he wasn't looking at Dean. His eyes were glued to the door and Sam, who was currently blocking his escape route.

Dean crouched down on the floor a few feet away from the kid.

Shaking and dripping wet, the boy's breath came in little gasps and sniffles as he finally turned and watched Dean from under his shaggy, dark hair.

"Hey... we're not gonna hurt you, ok? Is your name Sammy?" Dean asked softly.

The Sam standing behind him looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

But the little boy nodded slowly and bit back a frightened sob. "How... how do you k-know my name?"

Dean plastered on his best relaxed grin then as his Sam looked on in complete shock.

"We're ah... we're friends of your dad. John Winchester, right?"

Sammy nodded. "Do you know where he is?"

Dean shook his head sadly. "No, but we can help you find him, ok?"

"De-"

Dean shot a hand out to his side to silence Sam. "We know your brother, too. And Caleb, and Bobby, and Pastor Jim..."

Sammy was still looking at him suspiciously, trying to control the little hiccuping breaths that had resulted from crying. "What's the password?" he asked, trying to sound confident and maybe a little threatening.

There was only a brief pause before Dean answered, "Thundercats."

Sammy's posture softened slightly and he swallowed.

"And you know what else?" Dean asked with a little smile. "You want to hear something totally crazy?"

The little boy nodded.

Dean pointed in Sam's direction. "You two have the same name. He's Sam, too."

Sam, who had not even come close to recovering from the shock of this situation, raised his hand and waved awkwardly at the boy that Dean was claiming to be his younger self.

"And you're _never_ going to believe this one. My name is Dean... just like your brother. Isn't that weird?"

Sammy actually gave him a brief little smile then, tears still tumbling out of his frightened hazel eyes.

Sam stared at the boy. He didn't believe it at first, but it was becoming pretty clear that this really was some manifestation of his past self. But why and how were questions he would have to figure out and more importantly, what to do about it.

"Dad's car is outside." Sammy said anxiously.

"Actually, that's... our car. We uh... we thought your dad's car was so awesome that we got one just like it!"

Sam's jaw dropped again. Dean was a master at coming up with a brilliant cover story on the fly, but right now it was like he wasn't even _trying_. The tale he was spinning was so ridiculous there was no way-

But Sammy didn't look suspicious any more. He just looked disappointed that it was not, in fact, his father's car outside. He was buying all of it. He was too young not to. Two people with the same names as him and his brother? The same car as his father? To a 5 year old, it was completely possible, if not likely.

"Sam," Dean said glancing back at him. "You'd better go pick up the food. You like pizza, Sammy?"

Sammy was quivering against the arm of the sofa again. He didn't answer.

Dean stood up slowly and walked back over to the table where he picked up the chair he'd knocked over. Sam followed, keeping one eye on the door.

"Dude-" Sam held his hands out at his sides, staring at Dean. "A little version of... of _me_ shows up at our hotel and you want me to go _pick up food_?"

"Look, just... go get dinner and-"

"No! Dean, I'm not leaving you here alone with... with whatever... that is!"

"Whatever that is? _That_ is a little kid, Sam. And not just any kid-"

"You don't know that!"

"Yeah, well, for now, that's what we're going with. And I think I can handle you at three feet tall." It was the first time in days that Dean's authoritative tone had returned. Sam was somewhat relieved to hear it again because it meant his brother's spirit was still alive in there somewhere, but of course, it had arrived at a less than ideal time.

"Oh," Dean added. "Stop at that little grocery store we passed on the way here. Pick up apple juice, Lucky Charms and milk-"

"_What_?"

"Just do it, Sam, all right? I'll handle the kid for right now."

Sam rolled his eyes, not in the mood to argue any more. "Fine. I'm going to take a quick walk around the building and then I'll be back in about half an hour. Keep your phone on!"

"When do I _not_?" Dean shot back. "Don't forget the... you know what? I'm gonna write it down," Dean said going over to the small desk against the opposite wall where there was a pen and a small pad of paper.

"Dean, I think I can remember three things-"

"Yeah, well I thought of a few other things."

Sam took a step closer to him and lowered his voice. "What, do you think he's moving in or something?"

"He's cold, he's probably hungry and he's _just a little kid_. Look, just get this stuff, ok?" He handed Sam the list, his voice pleading just enough for Sam to drop the issue and take it.

Sam stuffed the list in his pocket and looked back at the kid- Sammy- still huddled in the corner of the room. He mumbled something about "our lives" as he headed back out to the parking lot.

Dean waited until the door closed to approach Sammy. He picked up the towel that Sam had left on the window sill and walked slowly over to him.

"Kiddo, you're looking awful cold over there. You wanna get dried off?" He reached out to hand the towel over to Sammy. Dean had to grudgingly admit that Sam had a point. He had no idea what he was dealing with and a small part of him regarded this young version of Sam with masked suspicion.

But then the little boy looked up at him, tears still filling his eyes and Dean's heart melted. Sammy reached out cautiously and took the towel. He clumsily dried his face and arms, but didn't seem to know what else to do.

"Here..." Dean moved very slowly towards him. "Can I help you out a little?"

Sammy nodded.

"Come on out from there," Dean coaxed, as he knelt down on the floor.

Sammy hesitantly scooted out from between the furniture and towards Dean.

"There you go," Dean praised softly as he took the towel and gently dried Sammy's hair. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kiddo. All right? I know you're a little freaked out right now, but we're gonna figure this out, I promise."

"You talk like my brother," Sammy said quietly.

"Yeah? Well, I know your brother. I've known him for a _long_ time. He's a really smart kid." Dean smirked.

"My brother is the smartest person ever," Sammy agreed.

Dean stopped toweling him off for a moment, surprised. "He is?"

"Yes. And he's braver than anybody else. Except for Dad."

All of a sudden, a sick feeling formed in the pit of Dean's stomach. He had forgotten that there was a time when Sam actually saw him this way. And sure, it had taken decades, but how had he driven Sam from hero-worship to near hatred? "Yeah, well... right now he's probably worried sick about you, so we're gonna get you back to him as soon as we can, ok?"

Sammy nodded and looked at his wet shoes. "Dad's gonna be mad," he said and started to cry again.

"Oh, Sammy, hey-hey-hey... come on kiddo. It's all right. Your dad's not gonna be mad-" Dean touched the side of his face.

Sammy stood up then and threw his arms around Dean's neck, sobbing and shivering.

And suddenly Dean couldn't remember how to breathe. _Oh, little brother... it's been so long_. He felt tears welling in his own eyes over the fear he felt for this child and the guilt he felt for the man he would become. It took all of his effort to focus his attention on the fact that this frightened little boy, no matter who or what he was, needed his confidence right now. "Sammy," he whispered, rubbing Sam's back. "It's ok. You're ok... You're safe. We're gonna figure this out. But I'm gonna need your help, ok? Can you talk to me about what happened? How you ended up out there in the parking lot in the rain?"

There was a weak nod against his shoulder. But when Dean tried to move him, Sammy dug his little fingers more tightly into Dean's flannel and whimpered.

Dean wrapped his arms back around him. "All right, it's ok, I've got you. I'm not gonna let you go, buddy. I'm just gonna pick you up so we can sit on the couch, ok?"

There was a muffled sob and another nod.

Dean rubbed his back some more and wrapped the towel around him. "Aww... shhh... it's all right," he whispered as he stood carefully. He pulled a blanket off of one of the beds and sat down on the small sofa. He draped the blanket over the little trembling bundle that was clinging to his neck. He ran his hand gently over the wet mop of hair. "So, can you tell me what happened? Were you with your brother, and you got lost?

"Yes... we were...hungry and there was- there was an apple tree outside and then the man came and he took me through the door and said he was going to teach me a lesson-" The words ran together in a panicked jumble and by the end of the short, broken sentence Sammy was crying so hard he could barely breathe, much less talk.

"Sammy... _Sammy_, hey... it's ok, it's ok. Shhh... relax, I've got you. You're ok," Dean soothed, rocking him gently back and forth and holding him tightly as he choked on tears.

"I want Dean..."

Hearing his name in that tiny voice just about wrecked him. "I know, kid, I know. We'll get you back to him." Dean wanted to ask him more questions, but the little sobs were breaking his heart.

"Dean..." Sammy's cries were getting softer, weaker as he started falling asleep right there on Dean's shoulder.

"It's ok, buddy, it's ok." Dean just kept running his hand over the kid's hair until his breathing evened out and his whole body went limp.

The shock of the situation began to really sink in then. Sammy. Sammy at 5 years old was lying asleep in his arms while 30 year old Sammy was out picking up pizza. 5 year old Sammy...the little boy who used to look at him like he had all the answers. The little boy who believed he could fix anything..who had no idea the mistakes his big brother was capable of making... no idea how badly he could screw things up...Dean just sat there holding him. He sat there, remembering.


	3. Hypothesis

Sam jostled his way into the room, a pizza box in one hand and several plastic bags in the other. He stopped short when he saw Dean on the couch with the kid curled up on his chest. "Well... I see you two made up."

Dean looked up at him, the sadness in his eyes cutting right through Sam. He stood carefully then, supporting Sammy's head as he tilted him back and laid him down on the couch. He tucked the blanket around him and gently pushed the damp hair back out of his eyes.

"How'd you get him to warm up to you so quickly?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't know," he replied, coming over to help Sam with the bags.

"So, you learn anything?"

"Some. Freakin' weird... he said he and 'his Dean' were hungry and there was an apple tree outside. So they went out and some man came and took Sammy through a door to, I don't know, teach him a lesson or some crap like that. I'm guessing they were probably holed up in one of Dad's crummy motel rooms for days on end and the food supply ran out. They went outside and something grabbed him."

Sam's expression grew concerned. "_They_? So there's another you, too?"

"I guess."

"Great," Sam rolled his eyes, trying for humor, but it didn't really work. "So, that's not really much to go on."

"Yeah, he got a little worked up so I didn't push him for much else."

Sam sighed. "So what is all this, anyway?" he asked waving his arms over the grocery bags and grabbing a slice of pizza.

"Just some stuff you used to like when you were... him," Dean gestured towards Sammy, still asleep on the sofa.

"Speaking of, how did you know what the password was? Dad used to change it all the time."

"Did you see that cut on his arm? It's mostly healed but you can still see it. That's from the shtriga that nearly got you. Sliced your arm when it took off. Dad let you pick a new password right after that happened."

"How do you remember all this stuff?"

Dean started to answer just as Sammy stirred and sat up on the couch.

"Dean?"

Dean approached him carefully, knowing with much sadness that he was not the _Dean_ Sammy was calling for. "Hey, hey, kiddo..."

Predictably, Sammy's eyes widened and he backed up against the sofa for a moment before relaxing slightly.

"Just me... how you doin', buddy? You hungry?"

Sammy's face crumpled as he covered his eyes and started to cry again.

Dean sat down on the edge of the couch. "I'm sorry, Sammy..."

Sammy's arms reached out for him and Dean scooped him up without hesitation. He rubbed his back and spoke in soothing, gentle tones.

Sam watched them, awed not only by the fact that this child had taken so quickly to Dean, but also by this other side of his brother. It was a side he had experienced at one time decades ago but never witnessed as an outsider. Dean was gentle and caring, and yet oddly not out of character. It was just Dean without the walls of the cocky grin and snarky sarcasm that he used to cover this part of himself up. Garth had likened him to a "big teddy bear", and Sam had to admit that at least with the people he cared about, there was a great deal of truth to the statement.

Almost magically, the child in his arms started to settle and snuggle in deeper, burrowing his head in the crook of Dean's neck. And then it hit him. Sam realized what should have been obvious. The only comfort that child had ever known was those arms and the sound of that voice. The arms were stronger, the voice was deeper, but it was still _Dean_ and that little boy's soul recognized him.

"Aw, kiddo, you're shivering," Dean whispered. "You're still all wet and you're freezing, aren't you?"

Sammy's teeth chattered.

"Ok, let's see if we can put you in something a little dryer, huh?" Dean carried him over to where his duffel lay open on the bed. He set Sammy down and started digging around in the bag.

Sammy wiped his eyes and watched him. Every once in a while he would glance back nervously at Sam, not sure yet if he trusted him.

"Hmm... this is awful big but it'll have to do for now. Time to play dress-up." Dean said holding up some clothes.

"Dress-up?" Sammy said scrunching up his face, suddenly indignant. "Only girls play dress-up!"

"Yeah? And you're a girl," Dean said, that cocky grin returning.

Sammy jumped up on the bed and folded his arms. "Am not!"

"Whatever, princess. Shirt off."

Sam shook his head, the faintest hint of a smile drawing up the corners of his mouth as he listened to the exchange.

"I'm not a princess!" Sammy stated defiantly. "But Dean calls me that sometimes," he added a little more softly, wiggling out of his wet shirt.

"He does?" Dean said pulling one of his own t-shirts over Sammy's head.. "What else does he call you?"

Sam looked up from the groceries again to see if Sammy would really answer that question.

A smile had spread across his face like he knew the answer and it was really funny, but he wasn't supposed to say it.

Sam couldn't help a bit of a smirk as Dean caught his gaze. He felt a pang of nostalgia then as the two of them briefly shared the inside joke that they knew exactly what Sammy was going to say.

Dean helped Sammy into one of his flannels and rolled the sleeves all the way up. "Well?"

Sammy giggled, covered his mouth and shook his head.

"Aw, come on. I won't tell, I promise."

Sammy looked over at Sam, clearly not sure if he should repeat this in front of him. Sam looked away, but glanced up in time to see Sammy tug Dean's sleeve. Dean leaned down and Sammy whispered something to him. Dean gasped and his eyes widened.

"What? That's not nice!"

Sammy was giggling again. "We're not supposed to tell Dad, though."

"No, you should definitely not tell Dad- your dad." Dean agreed. He finished dressing Sammy and then spread his wet clothes out across the heating vent.

"I call him a jerk 'cause I'm not supposed to say that other word. Dean says I'm too little."

"Well, he's right. You are too little," Dean grinned at him and picked him up off the bed, patting his back.

"Someday I'll be big, though," Sammy said as he tucked his arms in front of him and curled into Dean's chest trying to get warm.

Dean let out a bit of a chuckle. "You have no idea," he said as he carried Sammy over to the little table where Sam had been unpacking the groceries. He sat down in a chair and nudged Sammy up to show him the food.

"Look what Sam brought... you like Lucky Charms, right?"

Sammy nodded, his head still tucked under Dean's chin.

"Or do you want some pizza?"

Sammy looked cautiously over at Sam before he pointed shyly to the cereal box.

Sam got out one of the paper bowls Dean had put on the list and poured the kid some of the cereal. He put the bowl down in front of Sammy, who looked up at him and Sam discovered that he was not immune to his own puppy dog eyes.

"You want some juice, too?" Sam asked him.

Sammy looked over and saw the apple juice and smiled a little. "I like apple juice."

Dean grinned at him. "We know you do. And goldfish crackers too, right?"

Sammy nodded as Sam reached over to the counter and picked up the bag of crackers to show him. Then he handed Sammy a cup of juice.

"Thank you," Sammy said quietly.

"You're welcome, kiddo," Dean said running his hand over Sammy's hair.

Sammy ate happily at first, but after a few bites he started looking upset again.

Dean, who was still holding him on his lap, immediately felt the tense change in posture. "Wha's matter Sammy?" he said around a mouthful of pizza.

Sam looked down at his cereal. "Dean was hungry, too... what if he's not eating?"

"Were you out of food?"

"There was only a little and he said it was for me."

Sam's stomach churned remembering the number of times he was pretty sure his brother had gone hungry so he could eat. It was something he hadn't thought about in a while. In a very long time, in fact. And he was not at all surprised to see Dean put his pizza down and focus his attention on Sammy. He would probably not take another bite until the kid finished his cereal, if at all.

"Sammy, c'mon buddy..."

Sammy shook his head.

Sam jumped in quickly. "You've gotta eat, you know. You have to keep yourself strong so we can go find your brother, right?"

Dean shot him a "nice save" glance and continued. "Yeah, you finish up that up and we'll talk about a plan to get you back home, ok?"

Sammy nodded sullenly, but dug into his cereal again.

After he'd eaten, Sammy slid off of Dean's lap and went over to the window and looked out at the parking lot. Dean stood and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Dean? Aren't you going to finish this?" Sam asked, nudging the pizza box back towards his brother.

Dean shook his head. "No. I'm going to see if I can talk to him some more."

"All right. Well, I'm going to... see if I can figure something out," Sam said shrugging helplessly. He wasn't sure where to even start, but he cleared the table and opened up his laptop.

"What about that hunt that we're actually here for?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I'll check on that too, but I'm thinking we've got bigger problems right now. Might have to see if we can find some other hunters to handle that one."

Dean nodded and followed Sammy to the window. He knelt down on the sofa and gazed out the window beside him.

"Still raining out there, huh?"

Sammy nodded, still staring out at the Impala parked near the door.

"So, can you tell me some more about when you got lost? You were outside... outside of a motel room?"

Sammy nodded. "We saw the apples outside and we went out to get some."

"You guys still had some food, though, right?"

"Yeah..." Sam looked guilty.

"You just wanted something else, huh?" Dean asked, sympathy evident in his voice.

"We were tired of peanut butter. I wanted apples. And there was enough for both of us. Dean said no, but I kept asking. And then that man came... I didn't mean to-"

"Hey... you didn't do anything wrong," Dean reached out and patted Sammy's back. 'Enough for both of us'. Even at 5 Sam tried to watch out for Dean. Dean's chest tightened wondering again how they'd gone from that to "same circumstances, I wouldn't". Those words still rung loud and clear in his mind.

Sammy turned to him and climbed into his lap. "Dad's gonna yell at Dean when he comes back," Sammy said on the verge of tears again.

Over in the tiny kitchenette, Sam's stomach churned and tightened again upon hearing this. Dean had gone hungry _and_ he'd taken the heat from their father for anything that ever went wrong. Probably more times than Sam even knew about. He shot a sidelong glance at Dean, but Dean was completely focused on Sammy.

"Dean will handle your dad. He'll be fine. And when your dad comes back they can look for you together, right?"

Yeah, Sam though with a pang of real guilt. After he rips you a new one.

"So," Dean pressed. "A man showed up when you were outside. What did he say?"

"He said 'I have to teach you and your brother a lesson' and he grabbed my hand and took me through a door that was outside. He said not to worry, that I'd be all right. He said he was going to come back."

"He did? When?"

"I don't know."

Dean processed this. "What did the door look like? Like a regular door? Like that one?" He pointed to the door of their room.

Sammy shook his head. "It didn't look like a door at all. He just called it a door. It looked like... like a blue cloud with light."

"Where did the door go? To the parking lot outside?" Dean asked, pointing out the window.

"No, it was in the woods. I saw the building and Dad's car through the trees so I came to find him."

Dean wanted more information. Sammy was putting on a brave face, but Dean could tell he wasn't going to get much farther before the tears started up again. "Ok, kiddo. I'm going to talk to Sam for a minute. Be right back. You stay warm, ok?" He put the blanket over Sammy's shoulders as he got up.

Dean wandered over to where Sam was working away on the laptop.

"I heard," Sam said tiredly. "Look, I know you don't want to push him, but we need to get him to talk so we can figure this out. All I've got to go on so far is a man took him through a door outside."

"Well, yeah, and also that he's YOU."

Sam sighed again. "Yeah, there's also that. So, I don't know... what do you think? A witch? A... a doppleganger? A shifter? What?"

Dean shook his head looking over at Sammy sulking on the couch. "No... I think he's really you."

"What is that supposed to mean? You mean like time travel? Like with Henry?"

"No," Dean said, trying to make sense of what he was thinking. "Not time travel exactly... I mean, there's _two_ of you now. More like...ok, this is going to sound weird, even for us-"

"You mean like a parallel universe kind of thing?"

Dean bit his lip. "Yeah. That's exactly what I mean. Full on Star Trek. Except he's not evil. Or he doesn't seem to be, anyhow."

Sam looked back over a the kid. "Well, I guess it's really not that much more weird than anything else we've seen. I don't know, I guess it's as good a place as any to start."

"Yeah. Well, you start, I'm gonna take him and get him some clothes. And maybe some books or something to do."

Sam looked up from the laptop, a bit shocked. "You're gonna take him out? Dressed like that?"

"What? We'll go to that Walmart in town. Nobody will even notice."

"Dude-" Sam gestured helplessly at the little boy on the sofa. "He's wearing a shirt he could camp out in and socks that- how are those even staying up?"

Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. "I tied them up."

"With what?"

Dean scratched the back of this head. "Dental floss."

Sam dropped his hands to his sides and looked heavenward, as though appealing for divine guidance.

"Dude, what? It's _Walmart._"

"Why don't you just leave him here? I'm not going anywhere."

Dean didn't answer him and Sam just rolled his eyes, because he already knew the answer. Let Sammy out of his sight for more that a few seconds? Not going to happen. _And that,_ Sam reminded himself,_ is how we ended up like this 25 years later._ Though he'd said nothing, Sam knew Dean had heard his thoughts loud and clear when he glared at Sam and stalked back over to the couch. He reached out for Sammy.

"You know you're not supposed to drive him around without a car seat, right?" Sam called over his shoulder.

Dean ignored him. "C'mon kiddo. Let's go get you some better clothes and maybe some books. What do you say?"

Sammy brightened immediately and raised his arms for Dean to pick him up.

The two of them left without saying goodbye to Sam.


	4. Shopping and Research

**Writer's Note:** Thank you again for all your kind reviews and thank you especially to those of you sharing your thoughts on Sam and Dean's current situation. This is a very though-provoking season and I love hearing everyone's insights about what the brothers are going through. Some of you have even offered suggestions that made sense to work into the story, so thank you! We will make it through this season together and I'm having faith that the writers will work their magic. If not, there's always fan fiction, right? Enjoy chapter 4!

* * *

The store wasn't terribly crowded and the few people that were there, as Dean expected, didn't give them so much as a second glance. And that was fortunate, because he could not convince Sam to ride in the cart, which would have hidden at least some of his "outfit". So he padded along beside Dean in his socks tied with dental floss and flannel nightgown that dragged on the floor. The only reaction they got was from a weary looking dad holding the hand of an incredibly hyper kid wearing a cape and a batman mask.

He gave Dean a tired smile and sighed, "Thank God for Walmart, right?" as his kid dragged him by the hand towards the toy aisle.

Dean gave him a nod and steered his cart in the opposite direction. Sammy had been a quiet kid. He was smart, inquisitive, occasionally stubborn (very stubborn) and spent more time observing than chattering aimlessly like a lot of the kids they passed. Right now, Dean was extremely grateful for most of those characteristics. His goal was to get in and out of this place as fast as they could.

They picked out some clothes and tossed them into the cart: a couple shirts, pants, a sweatshirt, socks, underwear and some pajamas. Then they headed for the toy aisle.

The batman kid was now being forcibly removed from this aisle by his exhausted father. The kid was having a total meltdown. He was tangled up in his cape and his mask had been pushed halfway up his face from his flailing arms.

"I told you if you said it again, we were going home. So, now we're going home," the man told the kid as he tried to contain the tantrum and escape the toy section. The kid howled all the way out of the store.

Sam tugged on Dean's sleeve. "What do you think he said?"

"Something he shouldn't have."

Sam looked after them. "Probably 'bitch'," he said, seriously.

Dean stifled a laugh. "Probably. Or maybe he refused to sit in the cart."

"They didn't have a cart."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at him. "Always the wiseass..."

"You said ass," Sammy said and grinned at Dean, all dimples.

Dean couldn't help but smile back. "So I did. Are you going to drag me out of the store kicking and screaming?"

Sammy shook his head, and laughed. "No!"

"That's what I thought. Well, here's the toy section. You wanna pick out something to bring back?"

Sammy looked at the toys and then back at Dean like he wasn't sure if he was serious or not.

Dean got down beside him and pulled a box off the shelf. It was a small garage with a ramp. "Ooo! Check this out! And it comes with three cars!"

Sammy beamed at him.

"Do you like this? Or do you see something else that looks like fun?"

Sammy looked around and then walked up and pointed to a box of dinosaurs. He looked hesitantly at Dean.

Dean pulled it off the shelf. "You like this one? Yeah... I should have guessed."

Sammy nodded, the grin still plastered on his face.

Dean laughed and ruffled his hair. "You havin' fun, Sammy?" Cause I sure am, Dean thought, his heart swelling as Sammy gave him another enthusiastic nod.

Sammy shuffled over to the shelf on the other side of the aisle, trying not to trip on his socks. He pointed to the stuffed animals that were a little too high for him to reach.

Dean lifted him up and Sammy grabbed a stuffed dog off the shelf, hugging it to him. "Yep. Could have guessed that one, too. All right, kiddo. One more thing that's always guaranteed to make Sammy happy... books!"

Before they left the toy aisle, Sam longingly ran his fingers over a toy car. "I wish Dean could be here," he said sadly.

"You wanna get something for Dean? We can give it to him when we find him, what do you say?"

The little smile returned.

"All right, let's see... I can tell you exactly which one he'd like. I don't see any Impala's..." Dean looked over the cars and pulled a black corvette off the shelf. "This one. What do you think?"

"Yeah," Sammy nodded. "That one."

They wandered over to the next aisle where Sammy picked out a few books. Dean grabbed a few other basic supplies- a toothbrush, a warm blanket and at the last minute, he reluctantly added a car seat to their pile before they headed to the check out.

* * *

Back at the motel, Sam was deeply engrossed in something on the computer when Dean and Sammy walked in the door. Dean dug out some of the clothes and the toothbrush and handed them to Sammy. "Go get ready for bed and I'll ready you one of the books, ok?"

Sammy stood there a moment and shook his head.

Sam glanced up to watch what was going on.

"Sammy," Dean sighed.

"I want to go look for Dean."

"Sammy, we can't right now, it's late. You need to go to bed."

"No."

Sam hid a smirk and tried to focus on the screen.

"Sam," Dean warned, dropping the nickname. Sam looked up from the computer again, but then realized that Dean was still talking to Sammy.

"No. I want to find Dean."

Dean crouched down in front of him. "So do I, kiddo, but we have to figure out what we're dealing with first so nobody gets hurt, ok?"

Sammy looked at the floor.

"We're gonna find him, Sammy. We'll get you home. Look, why don't you go put these on, brush your teeth and I'll read you a story, what do you say? Please?"

Sammy looked crossly at him. "I want the Spiderman pajamas, not these."

"Fine. That we can handle," Dean said reaching into one of the bags and exchanging the pajamas. "Here. We good?"

Sammy scampered off to the bathroom, finally losing a sock along the way.

Sam watched him go. "I guess I was a little stubborn, huh?"

Dean stopped, lowered his eyebrows and considered Sam's question. "I'm not sure what's worse. The fact that you think you were a _little_ stubborn or the fact that you used the past tense."

"Shut up."

"You think that was bad, you should have seen the 'Epic Battle of the Car Seat' that took place twenty minutes ago."

"You bought a car seat?" Sam cringed picturing the fight it must have taken to get his younger self to sit in a car seat.

"You're the one who brought it up!" Dean said with annoyance. "So, what have you got? Anything?"

"Maybe. I think there might be something to this parallel universe idea of yours."

Sammy came out of the bathroom then dressed in his new pajamas. He saw Dean across the room and grinned, opened his arms and ran to him, wrapping his arms around one of his legs. "Dean..."

Dean scooped him up. "Hey, there, squirt," he whispered, rubbing Sammy's back and leaning his forehead down to press against the top of Sammy's head. "All ready for bed? You want to read a story?"

Sammy nodded and snuggled up against Dean's shoulder.

"All right, well how about this- you go play with your new dinosaurs and I'll be over to read to you in about ten minutes. Good plan?"

"Good plan," Sammy said grinning as Dean put him down.

"Boy, he got over that quick." Sam said, watching the kid run off to the far side of the room.

"You used to be like that." Dean said with more than a hint of what Sam was pretty sure he meant as bitterness, but it came out more sad.

But Sam was curious. Ignoring the slight dig, he asked, "So what was your secret?"

"My secret?"

"To get me to do what you wanted. I mean, I know Dad had a hell of a time..."

"I don't know. I guess I just knew when to pick my battles. Like just now... going outside in the rain to look for a door to another universe? No. Spiderman pajamas instead of monkey pajamas? Ok. If you weren't going to get hurt, I tried to let you have your way, sometimes. It wasn't about being right, you know? Just about..."

_Keeping you safe_... Sam heard the unspoken words as clearly as if Dean had spoken them. He digested this information as he might a heavy meal- with the feeling of a rock in the pit of his stomach.

"So what have you got?" Dean asked again, breaking the now uncomfortable silence.

Sam cleared his throat. "Well, it turns out there actually _was_ a parallel universe phenomenon that was reported to have occurred near here in a town called Ong's Hat."

Dean just stared at him.

"I'm going to keep going before you can start a useless commentary on the name of the town," Sam said quickly. "You can look it up later- there's a story with it, but I don't think it's relevant."

Dean's frowned, but kept his mouth shut.

"So it's not clear if Ong's Hat was actually a town or just a couple of buildings. Either way, it was pretty much disappearing from the map until the early days of the internet when Joseph Matheny started posting a series of writings he came across called 'The Incunabula Catalog'. These papers documented the work of a group of physicists who were experimenting with quantum mechanics. Two of the physicists, Frank and Althea Dobbs, were twin siblings who were kicked out of Princeton because their work was a little too "out there" for the university to handle. They set up an ashram in the Pine Barrens, which are right around the corner by the way, and allegedly discovered some kind of gateway to another universe."

Dean folded his arms and leaned against the table. He frowned and watched Sammy playing with his dinosaurs.

"So it turns out that this Joseph Matheny, who was publishing these papers is also an expert on the Elizabethan mage John Dee-"

"Mage? You mean like the comic book?"

"No," Sam said impatiently. "Like a... scholar, but one who dabbles in the paranormal. So anyhow, this John Dee worked very closely with a medium named Edward Kelly to transcribe messages from the angels in Enochian back in the 1500's."

"_What_?"

"Yeah. So what I'm thinking is that as bat-shit crazy as this whole Ong's Hat story is, it's probably rooted in some kind of truth. It looks like Matheny made a lot of it up, just to see if he could get it circulating as a true story, but I'm thinking it might not be completely fictional."

"So you think the parallel universe thing is possible then?"

"At this point, I think it's likely. I can't find any records of Frank and Althea, but maybe they disappeared on purpose. "

"And you think the angels might have something to do with it?"

"Not necessarily. I just find it less than coincidental that this all has a connection to someone who could translate angel language."

"So what brought Sammy here?"

"I don't know. But whatever it was, I think it brought us here too. That hunt I found? Total bust. There's nothing to hunt. I made a few calls to make sure, but the whole thing sounds like it was just a hoax."

"I told you it was no big deal-"

"The point is, we were lead here, Dean. We were meant to come to this town, meant to run into … younger-me in the parking lot. Whatever this is, it's targeting _us_, Dean."

"Why?"

"I'm still working on that and so far..."

Dean nodded. He turned to check on Sammy who had brought all of his dinosaurs to the couch and was quietly lining them up on the window sill. Every once in a while he would stop and look out into the parking lot, off towards the woods. Then he would go back to moving his dinosaurs around.


	5. Like the Old Days

As Dean had promised, the next morning after breakfast the three of them headed out into the woods to see if they could find anything unusual. Sammy insisted on carrying the toy car in case they found Dean.

Dean was surprised at how deep into the woods Sammy had actually been. But he was not surprised at how well the kid was able to lead them to where he'd originally been dropped off. Even scared, he had paid attention. John Winchester had trained them both well at very young ages.

But after looking around for a while they eventually had to admit defeat. There was nothing there out of the ordinary, and it was starting to rain again. When they finally decided to turn around, Sammy's face fell. He stood still, looking over his shoulder and then turned back to the boys.

"C'mon kiddo, it's starting to rain." Dean said, reaching his hand out towards him.

Sam recognized the face immediately. Sammy was fighting tears. Dean recognized it too and picked him up. Sammy buried his face in Dean's shoulder and Sam could barely make out the muffled word, "Deeean..."

"Sammy," Dean whispered. "I know...It's ok, buddy. We're gonna get you back to Dean. It's just going to take some time, ok? Everything's gonna be all right."

Sam listened as Dean continued murmuring encouraging words quietly to Sammy. How many times had he heard those words from his brother? And how many times had Dean actually believed what he was saying? Probably not many. He said it for Sam, so Sam wouldn't be scared or so that he wouldn't cry. But there had never been anyone there to comfort Dean. How many times had he been scared or wanted- _needed_- to cry? The anger Sam had been carrying around was slowly crumbling.

By the time they got back to the room, Sammy had given in to the tears, Sam had gotten quite a cut on his arm from a thorn tree and all of them were soaking wet. Dean put Sammy down on his bed. He thumbed the tears off of his face and pushed his hair back. "Wait right here, buddy."

Dean hurried into the bathroom and grabbed some towels. He tossed one to Sam on his way by.

Sam watched as Dean passed by him without even a glance at the blood that was dripping down his arm.

Sam frowned at the feeling of hurt that came over him then. Wasn't this exactly what he wanted? Dean to stop hovering and worrying and trying to fix everything? And especially now when it was just a simple cut...

"Hey... come on, it's all right," Dean said softly to Sammy as he sat down next to him and dried him off. "You're all wet again. Good thing we got you some extra clothes, huh?"

He let out a muffled sob and climbed into Dean's lap.

"Shh... I've got you. You're ok, Sammy." Dean whispered, pulling him into his chest.

Sam faced away from them, putting pressure on his arm. _Sammy_... even hearing Dean call someone else by the nickname he hadn't heard in days (at least not directed at him) was ripping at his heart right now. He was baffled by this sudden shift in his thinking.

* * *

After he dried off and stopped the bleeding on his arm, Sam headed over to a local library to continue his research. It was the only place he could think straight. And not just because of the noise of having a 5 year old in their motel room. The anger he'd had towards his brother for the past few weeks was being smothered by guilt, regret, hurt and, as much as he hated to admit it, jealousy. It was all building inside him the more he watched Dean with Sammy. He tried to ignore it, tried to hang on to the anger he'd been feeling because, damn it, this was not sorted out yet. But the truth was, he was starting to wonder if he'd even had a good reason to be as angry as he was.

By early evening, he'd gathered enough information to be fairly confident that they were on the right track, but still not enough to tell him what they were dealing with. He stopped by a local deli on the way home to grab dinner for everyone as he'd promised, and pulled into the parking lot of the motel a little after 5:30.

Sam could hear the laughter the minute he stepped out of the Impala. Inside the small motel room, Sammy was jumping on the bed, wearing Dean's flannel as a cape. He was laughing and gasping for breath, a big grin on his face as he jumped between the two beds. Dean would catch him before he landed and throw him down on one of the mattresses. Sammy would squeal with delight and laugh until he could barely breathe and then get up and do it again. When he caught sight of Sam in the doorway, he turned towards him and announced excitedly, "We're playing Godzilla and Superman! Watch, Sam, watch! Are you watching?"

Sam's first reaction before he'd opened the door had been another wave of jealousy. But looking at the expression on Sammy's face, Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I'm watching."

Dean looked a little sheepish, but when Sammy jumped, Dean growled, grabbed him in mid-air, flung him carefully over on his back on to the bed and pretended to bite him. Sammy squealed again and broke into hysterical laughter. Dean couldn't hide the grin on his face. But Sam couldn't help but notice, he wasn't actually _laughing_.

Yet.

_Ok, mini me... game on_. Sam shook his head and set down his laptop. How did that old saying go? If you can't beat 'em... "Ok, Sammy, my turn. Are you watching?" Sam asked as he climbed up on the bed and appeared to be getting ready to jump at Dean.

Dean looked at him, a mixture of shock and confusion on his face.

"I'm watching!" Sammy yelped.

Dean's eyebrows shot up in sudden realization. "What? No! Dude, I don't think so-"

"Catch him, Dean! Catch him!" Sammy shouted, jumping up and down on the opposite bed.

"I can't catch him, he's a giant!" Dean protested desperately.

"C'mon, Dean. Seriously. I'm gonna jump. Catch me." Sam put out his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Catch you?" Dean was indignant, but there was a laugh building in there somewhere, Sam could see it in his eyes.

"Sammy, you'd better get out of the way in case he misses!" Sam yelled. "Crap, I should have a cape- whatever. Let's DO this!"

"Dude, NO!"

"C'mon, man, just put your back into it-"

"_What?_"

"Here I come!"

Sammy shrieked and bounded off the bed before he got squashed.

And Sam leapt.

Dean stepped out of the way and Sam belly flopped onto the opposite bed.

"Uugh! Dude, you suck!" Sam said accusingly.

Sammy was rolling on the floor laughing.

Dean grabbed a pillow off the other bed and smacked Sam with it. "Freakin' Sasquatch."

"Sasquatch!" Sammy mimicked and jumped up on the bed. Sam reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders and tackled him down to the mattress as Sammy giggled.

And Sam smiled then because he heard his brother laughing- really, _really_ laughing. And it was the most amazing thing he'd heard in as long as he could remember.

"Are you going to bite him now?" Sammy asked.

And Dean absolutely roared with laughter then.

Sammy laughed too, not sure what the big joke was, but figuring it had something to do with what he'd said. So he started jumping up and down again chanting "Bite him! Bite him!"

Damn, the kid had shown him up again. But Sam had to admit, it was totally worth it.

"You heard the kid," he said grinning at Dean who was doubled over against the nightstand. "Bite me."


	6. To the Moon and Back

**Writer's Note:** Thank you all so much for reading for your lovely comments. Thanks also to those of you offering suggestions. The little "jealous Sam" segment from the last chapter was for elliereynolds777... thanks for the inspiration! Here's a short, but very important chapter that I hope you'll like. I don't think I'm going to be able to finish this whole story before Tuesday night, so hopefully the story line of the show doesn't change too drastically! Eventually, I'm sure I will just have to label this AU. But for now, enjoy!

* * *

Later that evening, Sam sat at the small table reading through more articles about the surrounding area and the local history. The bit of comic relief they had all enjoyed earlier was short lived. Dean closed up again only minutes after it was over and Sam knew then that the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was warning him that he may have finally pushed things too far with his brother. How many times could one person be pushed away before they just couldn't take it anymore?

Dean was sprawled out on the couch with Sammy curled up in the crook of his arm reading bedtime stories. They were on their third one and both of their eyes were drooping.

"Ok, last one, kiddo. Which one do you want?"

Sammy pointed to a book, not even bothering to lift his head off of Dean's shoulder. Dean opened the book and started reading. "_Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare's ears._"

Sammy smiled sleepily. "I'm going to bed, too."

"Yes, you are, Mr. Nutbrown Hair," Dean said and ruffled the mop on top of Sammy's head. He kept reading. "_He wanted to be sure that Big Nutbrown Hare was listening. 'Guess how much I love you,' he said. 'Oh, I don't think I could guess that,' said Big Nutbrown Hair. 'This much,' said Little Nutbrown Hare stretching out his arms as wide as they could go._"

Sammy stretched his arms out wide.

Dean grinned and continued on. The rabbits in the story argued about who loved whom more, as high as they could reach, as far as they could hop, all the way to their toes. Dean wanted to roll his eyes at the sappiness of the story. He was desperate to make some kind of snarky comment like "could you have picked a gayer book?" but he couldn't say that to Sammy. So without the ability to mask his emotions with sarcasm, the sudden tightness in his chest just got worse and worse. _It's just a stupid kid's book,_ he kept telling himself. But he was struggling more and more with each page.

Sam seemed deeply engrossed in his research, but he was hearing every word. And feeling the same tightness in his chest.

"Bunny," Sammy said pointing to the little rabbit in the illustration.

"Yeah, that's a bunny," Dean said turning the page.

Sammy pointed to the bigger rabbit and looked up at Dean. "Is that the daddy bunny or the big brother?"

Just when Dean thought the pressure in his chest couldn't intensify any more... "Who do you think it is?" he asked, surprised to hear his voice strained and barely above a whisper as he tilted his head to meet the big, inquisitive hazel eyes.

Sammy beamed up at him, all dimples and grinning. "That's his brother!" he announced and then yawned snuggling deeper into Dean's arms.

And Dean was immensely relieved when Sammy looked back down at the book, because now the tears were stinging just beneath his eye lids. He swallowed and cleared his throat and forced himself to keep going.

" _'I love you right up to the moon,' he said and closed his eyes._" He could feel Sammy starting to go limp in his arms and he knew the exact moment the little boy was pulled under by sleep. " _'Oh, that's far,' said Big Nutbrown Hare. 'That is very, very far.'_ "

Sam heard the catch in Dean's voice, but he kept typing and clicking away on his laptop. He wasn't even reading what was on the screen in front of him anymore.

Dean closed the book and leaned his head back against the arm of the sofa, consumed with exhaustion and more than a bit of grief.

And Sam knew the exact moment that Dean fell asleep. He turned in his chair and watched them quietly. A lump was forming in his throat and tears stung the corners of his eyes. _What have I done?_

It was becoming painfully clear that he had completely misread his brothers actions and responses over the past few weeks. Hell, maybe over the past few years. It was becoming even more painfully clear that Dean's motives should have been obvious to him. And the things he had said... _Oh, God, how could I have said that to him?_

Sam thought about everything he's seen and remembered over the past two days- The protection, the caring, the sheltering from their father, the efforts Dean had put forth to give Sam some semblance of a normal childhood. And the sacrifices he had made for Sam since the day he was born from food to his own soul. How could it not have been completely obvious? All this time it had been right there. Constant, unwavering, unconditional love. Nothing more.

Sam's breath caught in his throat remembering. '_You didn't save me for me. You did it for you_'... _no_, Sam thought. _No_. _You freaking idiot. He saved you because_- he couldn't finish the thought before a few tears spilled over.

And then? As if he hadn't already done enough- '_No, Dean. I wouldn't. Same circumstances, I wouldn't._' He knew what he'd said and how he'd meant it, and he also knew exactly how Dean had heard it. Sam had purposely not clarified the statement. He had been so angry at the time that he was actually ok with the idea that Dean believed Sam would choose to let him die if the situation arose.

He stood quietly and made his way over to the sofa where his brother lay with one arm wrapped protectively around Sammy and the other arm dangling to the floor still holding the book.

He watched them sadly for a moment before carefully nudging Dean's shoulder. "Dean," he whispered gently.

Dean's eyes opened and he tightened his hold on Sammy.

" 's ok... Just me," Sam whispered again.

Sammy shifted slightly in Dean's arms and sighed. Sam reached out carefully, offering to lift him. Dean nodded and carefully slid out from under him as Sam held the limp little body as steadily as he could. He laid Sammy down on his belly on the couch and Dean tucked the blanket around him and smoothed out his hair. Then he headed off to the bathroom without a word to Sam. Sam watched him go, the emptiness inside him growing. How could he have done this to his brother? To an outsider, Dean wouldn't look any different. But Sam could see it in his posture, the way he walked, he could hear it in his voice... in the way Dean didn't look at him anymore. Dean was broken. And Sam had done this.

When the door to the bathroom closed, Sam picked up the book. He was pretty sure Dean hadn't finished the story. The little brother rabbit would never have had the last word. He flipped to the last pages where the little rabbit had fallen asleep and the big rabbit sat watching over him. _Big Nutbrown Hare settled Little Nutbrown Hare into his bed of leaves. He leaned over and kissed him good night_. _Then he lay down close by and whispered with a smile, 'I love you right up to the moon- and back.' _And Sam felt the last shreds of anger he'd been clinging to melt away as his heart shattered in a thousand tiny pieces.


	7. The Things We Left Unsaid

**Writer's Note**: Anyone else still reeling from 9:14 Captives? Sam, don't walk away... nononono! Hope you enjoy this chapter. All thoughts and comments are welcome. I'm trying to see and present both sides of this issue while keeping the brother bond at the forefront of this story. I know there's a lot of controversy in the fandom over which brother is "in the right", but I think at least most of us can agree that no matter who's side we are leaning towards (if either), we love their bond most of all.

* * *

Around midnight, the rain was still coming down. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Sam lay still in his bed staring at the ceiling. The heaviness that had settled in his chest remained, a pressing on his heart that had become an unwelcome but familiar companion over the years. His mind was flooded with memories both recent and distant. He thought about all the things he wished he hadn't done and said over the past few weeks, all the things he wished _Dean_ hadn't done and said. He thought about all the things that Dean had done for him as he was growing up that he'd never truly stopped to think about until now. Every time he was able to drift off to sleep, the images would haunt his dreams. And so he lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

He caught a slight movement from the other side of the room. Sammy was awake too, and had sat up to stare out the window again. Sam watched him silently. It was bizarre having a tiny, young version of himself running around. Even with the wide range of crazy he'd encountered in his lifetime, this was probably one of the strangest. Every once in a while, it would take him by surprise and he'd find himself just staring at the kid. All at once he would feel an intense jealousy and a desperation to protect the innocence he knew would someday be lost forever. And possibly the strangest thing was how he pretty much knew exactly what the kid was thinking about. Like right now. Sam was very certain Sammy had just had a nightmare and was hoping that Dean- _his_ Dean- would show up soon. Sam heard him sniffle and draw in a shaky breath. This would no doubt wake Sam's Dean- _Yep, there's the big brother radar kicking in,_ Sam thought as he watched Dean turn towards the window and sit up.

Dean threw back the covers and went over to the couch where Sammy had his face pressed up against the glass.

"Sammy... buddy, you ok?" Dean asked softly, sitting on the edge of the couch, laying a hand gently on Sammy's back. Sammy was standing up, pressing his belly into the back of the sofa. He was holding his dog, tears in his eyes, bottom lip out. Dean leaned in closer.

"Sammy... what's the matter, kiddo?"

Sammy just stood there, shaking, tears starting to fall.

"Hey..." Dean felt his forehead and cheeks. "Are you ok? Don't you feel good?"

Sammy let out a whimper and reached both arms out. Dean pulled the little boy to him, wondering vaguely if his heart would ever stop melting into a pool of I'll-do-anything-for-you every time the kid did that. He shifted Sammy so he was curled on to his lap. He wrapped both arms around him and rocking him gently, brought one hand up to run through Sammy's hair. "Ohhh...You're freezing. Let's keep you under the covers, ok?" Dean said as he wrapped the kid up in the blanket and curled in closer around him. "Did you have a bad dream?"

_Yes, I've been having horrible dreams that we're never going to be able to be brothers again because of how I've been treating you, _Sam thought as he lay still watching the two figures on the couch and listening to a voice that had been hardened from years of loss and battle suddenly fill with a soft gentleness that was usually reserved only for him.

There was a tearful nod from Sammy.

"Aww... everything's ok. All right?" Dean stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head.

Sammy pressed tighter up against him, still sniffling.

"I'm right here. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." That familiar promise. The one that had carried Sam through a horrific childhood that would otherwise have left him paralyzed with devastation. The promise that had kept a flame of hope burning throughout the years of dealing with things that most people don't even conjure up in their worst nightmares. The promise that had now caused a rift between them that Sam wasn't sure could be repaired.

Dean took a deep breath then. That familiar pressure in his own chest was back again and he had begun to realize it was more than nostalgia. It was more than just sorrow over what had happened between him and Sam. Whatever or whoever had brought Sammy here had said it was coming back. There was another Dean out there somewhere that, although just a little boy, was no doubt trying to move heaven and earth to find his brother. He wouldn't stop until he succeeded. The feeling Dean was having was a realization that Sammy most likely wouldn't be here for much longer, and he would never have the opportunity to hold and comfort him again. His own Sam was already gone. He'd been very clear about that, and Dean had decided shortly before Sammy had arrived that this would be their last hunt together. He was through trying to impose himself on Sam's life. It was time to let him go. It had been time for a long while now, Dean just hadn't been able to bring himself to believe it.

But now, here was this little window of opportunity to say goodbye. To let Sam know that no matter what, no matter how much pain and suffering Dean had been through, he was worth it. That Dean wouldn't trade Sam for anything in the world and that he loved him more than life itself. And that he was sorry. Not for saving him, but for hurting him. For destroying the trust between them, even if it hadn't been on purpose, he was sorry for that. And even if it wasn't really his Sam he was saying it to, it was probably as close as he would ever be able to get.

"Do you think he's looking for me?" Sammy's question startled Dean back into the present and shook Sam to his core in the back corner of the room.

"Who... Dean?" Dean asked.

Sammy nodded.

_Oh, kid... you are so blind, _Sam thought_. How can you be so smart and so oblivious?_ He almost laughed. _Looking for you? He's probably turned an entire town on end and found a way to involve the National Guard, even though he's only 10. _

Dean let out a humorless laugh. "I know he's looking for you."

There was a smothered whimper. "What if... what if he couldn't find me and he gave up?"

Sam's eyes watered in disbelief. If there was one thing he was certain of at his life at this point, it was that Dean didn't give up. Except that maybe now...

Dean cupped Sammy's chin and tilted his face up. "Sammy, look at me. I can _promise_ you that your brother is looking for you. If you're lost, he will always look for you. And he's not going to give up until he finds you. I know that. Ok?"

Sammy gave Dean a tearful nod.

Sam drew in a shaky, silent breath and bit his lip.

"No doubt in my mind," Dean continued. "Not one. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he found us before we find him."

Sammy swallowed and looked back out the window.

"C'mon, let me show you something." Dean quietly lifted him off the sofa and moved over to far end of the window. "You know, I used to take care of you when you were really little... you probably don't even remember..."

Sam silently angled himself to see where Dean was going. _You're wrong, I _do_ remember_.

Dean leaned his shoulder up against the edge of the window frame, looking up at the night sky. "Do you see the moon?"

Sammy pointed.

"Yeah. Right there. We're gonna find your brother, kiddo, ok?" He leaned closer to the little boy and whispered so quietly that Sam almost didn't hear him. "You know how much he loves you?"

Sam's insides froze.

Sammy tilted his head up to look at Dean. He smiled, getting the reference immediately. "All the way to the moon?"

Dean nodded. "All the way to the moon... and back. Forever. No matter what. I want you to remember that, ok? No matter what."

All the air went out of Sam's lungs. It took every ounce of effort he had to suppress a sob.

Sammy giggled. "Wanna hear a secret?"

"Sure."

"I love Dean more than anybody. Even Dad."

_Thank you... thank you for telling him that..._

Dean closed his eyes and pulled Sammy to him.

Sammy yawned, leaning into Dean's shoulder. He was facing towards where Sam was pretending to be asleep.

Sam watched him, the light from the parking lot illuminating both Sammy and his brother, but not quite extending to Sam's bed, where he was able to watch them unseen in the darkness.

"Is Sam your brother?" Sammy whispered.

Dean frowned, knowing he hadn't mentioned this. "Yeah, he is."

"Your big brother?"

Dean laughed softly. "No. He's big, but he's still my little brother."

"Do you love him to the moon and back?"

There was a brief pause. Dean swallowed and fought for control. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

_Dean..._

"Does he love you to the moon and back?"

There was a longer pause.

And here it was. The biggest problem of all.

Sam's insides clenched. He had always had a fear in the back of his mind that Dean had no idea how much Sam loved him right back. Though he hadn't thought about that fear in quite a long time, now it was right there staring him in the face. And after the way things had been? Sam had been hurt- hurt badly- and trust had been broken. And to get through to his brother, Sam had lashed out in a way he had never done before. Hurting Dean over and over until he could see the brokenness and even then, he didn't stop. He had driven Dean to the point that he would have come groveling to Sam if Sam had even allowed that, but he hadn't. There were boundaries that had been crossed, things that weren't fair to Sam. Things he still needed to make his brother understand. But at the same time, here in front of him was a love so deep, so devoted, so... _pure_- who got to have something like that on this earth? How many people had Sam ever encountered in his lifetime that had ever even had a glimpse of something so profound as this bond he shared with his brother? Out of the hundreds, maybe thousands of people he'd crossed paths with? No one.

The pause was long enough for all these thoughts to run through Sam's mind all the while, he pleaded- _Please say yes, please say yes... I need to know that you know..._

But he was sure that his brother could not answer this question, not now, with any certainty.

"You are just full of questions, aren't you?" Dean replied finally, running his hand through Sammy's hair again. "I think it's time for somebody to get some sleep. It's awful late," he whispered gently.

And Sam had to bite his lip until it bled to keep back the tears.

* * *

"You know Pastor Jim?" Sammy asked as Dean laid him back down against the pillow and pulled his blanket up.

"Yeah, I do," Dean whispered, handing Sammy his dog.

"Oh. Do you know Bobby too?"

"Yes."

Oh," Sammy paused.

Sam, still listening, knew exactly where this line of questioning was going, and now not only was he holding back tears, but he was coming rather close to throwing up.

And then the million dollar question, "Did you know my mom?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Um... yeah. I did."

"Oh," Sammy whispered. And then in an even softer voice, "Dean doesn't like me to talk about her."

"Yeah..." Dean swallowed and took a deep breath. "That was... that was a pretty tough time for him. But... you know what? You can talk about her to me. It's ok."

Sammy looked almost eagerly at him, like he wasn't sure how long this offer was good for, but he was immensely grateful for it. And Dean felt suddenly guilty for having deprived his own Sam of something he so desperately needed.

"What was she like?" Sammy asked.

There was a soft chuckle, but Sam could hear the tears in his brother's voice as he struggled to answer. Even after all these years, he struggled. "She was... she was really great. She used to sing to you and she let me- uh... she let Dean help take care of you."

"Did she... " Sammy's voice was suddenly shaky.

_No_, Sam thought bitterly. _Don't ask him. Don't... he doesn't need one more nail in his cross!_

"Did she like me?" Sammy asked weakly.

Sam swallowed and tried to control his breathing.

"Did she- _what_?"

The shock in Dean's voice finally forced tears from Sam's eyes. He had managed to keep them at bay through hearing Dean confess his love, admit to his doubt of Sam's love, but _this_ opened the flood gates. To know that there was now another burden added to the already crippling guilt his brother carried was too much. The tears flowed freely and silently from his eyes. It was becoming difficult to breathe.

He heard Dean swallow and take a breath. "Sammy, she _loved you_, why would- Sammy, hey-hey-hey... come on, Sammy..." Dean picked him up again as the little boy started to sob. "Why would you ask that... _of course_ she loved you."

"I don't remember her..." the tiny voice cried desperately. "I don't remember her ever telling me..."

"Sammy, you were just a baby..." the anguish in Dean's voice sliced through Sam's heart.

_And you were just a little kid, Dean. Carrying more shit around at 4 years old than most people deal with in an entire lifetime_. Sam could hear the tears in Dean's voice again. There was nothing in the world he wanted more at that moment than to go and hug his brother. Nothing. He wanted to tell him it was ok, that he understood now why Dean couldn't talk about it. That he knew now and had known for a long time that their mother had loved him. It was ok.

"You were just a baby, of course you don't remember. But I remember. Ok? I remember. She used to tell you all the time. All the time. She loved you, Sammy. I promise. I'm so sorry, Sammy... I'm so sorry..."

The little sobs were quieting and Sam could see Dean silhouetted against the window, rocking Sammy against his shoulder and running his hand over his hair. The little boy was calming, but Sam could tell that the whole situation had just completely wrecked his big brother.

Dean held Sammy for a long time until he seemed like he was asleep. But as he went to put him down, there was a tiny whimper.

"What's the matter, buddy?" Dean asked pulling the blanket up as Sammy clutched at the stuffed dog in his arms.

"I'm scared."

Dean touched the side of his face. "Why are you scared?" he whispered soothingly.

_Because I said horrible things to you and I'm afraid that maybe this will be the time that you just can't forgive me anymore_.

Sammy just whimpered again.

"There's nothing to be scared of, little guy. Sam and I are right here and we're not gonna let anything hurt you, and you've got your dog and your blanket," he rubbed Sammy's tummy through the covers. "Everything's ok, all right?"

Sammy sniffled and sat up, putting his arms back around Dean's neck. Dean let out a little chuckle and hugged him. He'd put this kid down how many times now? And still here he was clinging to his neck like a spider monkey. "You wanna stay with me tonight, kiddo?"

There was a weak nod against his neck.

"Ok, that's ok. You can stay with me... you stay with your brother sometimes when you're scared, don't you?"

"I miss Dean..."

"I know... I know you do, buddy. And he misses you, too. He misses you so much..."

_I'm sorry... I miss you too, Dean..._

"We're gonna find him, ok? We're gonna find him soon." Dean whispered. He knew the words were comforting to Sammy, but they were making him physically ill. And an idea was starting to brew in his mind. One that he knew Sam would absolutely not approve of. But one that he was considering anyway. The thing that had brought Sammy here said it was coming back.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to let Sammy go...


	8. A New Plan?

**Writer's Note**: Going to start with an apology- the updates are taking a little longer than I'd expected. But I want you to know that I will continue this to the end. The story has taken on a life of its own. I'm learning things about both of the characters from literally watching them do their own thing as I'm writing this- I write one thing, and they do another. The part about Dean thinking about keeping Sammy? Totally not my idea. That was all Dean. And we had to write it out. So my point- the next couple updates might to take just a bit longer as I'm trying not to have any "plot holes" in this story which has involved quite a bit of research. But ultimately, I know what we're all really wanting is more brother moments, regardless of plot holes, so I am promising lots more of those (brother moments- not plot holes). Enjoy!

* * *

In the morning, Sam woke to the sound Dean rummaging through his duffel bag and a quiet growling over by the window. Sammy was playing with his dinosaurs.

"Hey, think you can keep an eye on him while I grab a quick shower?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, sure."

Sam stretched and sat up. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tilted his head over in Sammy's direction as Dean headed off to the bathroom.

"Which dinosaur is getting eaten?" Sam asked swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Neither one. They're just fighting."

Sam shook his head. He got out of bed and wandered over to the window. He picked up a dinosaur and moved it around.

"That's the big brother dinosaur." Sammy said sadly.

"Yeah? And who's this one?" Sam picked up the T-Rex.

Sammy swallowed. "That's the dad."

"And what about..." Sam lifted up a paper cup Sammy had turned upside down on the window sill. Another plastic dinosaur was underneath the cup. "This one?"

"That's the little brother dinosaur. He got lost."

"Oh. So... the dad is kind of mad at the big brother, huh?"

Sammy nodded.

"Well, you know what I think is going to happen?"

Sammy looked up at him.

"I think this big brother dinosaur is going to come stomping over the hills and rescue the little brother dinosaur."

Sammy smiled as he watched Sam move the plastic toy across the window sill to the cup. Sam pushed the toy dinosaur into the cup and knocked it onto the couch, exposing the little dinosaur underneath. "He's going to find him and carry him all the way back home. That's what I think is going to happen."

Sammy grinned and laughed.

Sam smiled back, shaking his head. "Believe me. That's pretty much what _always_ happens."

Sammy looked sad again.

"What?" Sam asked tilting his head trying to meet the kid's gaze.

"The dad dinosaur is still gonna be mad at the big brother."

Sam thought about that for a minute. "Yeah, but what if the dad isn't home yet?" Sam whispered conspiratorially as he put the T-Rex under one of the pillows.

Sammy actually looked hopeful.

"Cause that pretty much always happens too, doesn't it?"

Sammy looked relieved. "Yeah. Then only the big brother will be mad, but that's ok."

Sam laughed. "Why is that ok?"

Sammy flashed him a dimpled grin. "'Cause he isn't ever _really_ mad."

"How do you know that?"

"'Cause after he yells at me he always gives me a hug and lets me pick the TV show."

Sam laughed, remembering this. It was when he first started learning about the power of puppy eyes. "Are we still talking about dinosaurs or you and Dean?"

Sammy just laughed and hid his face in the pillow.

Sam cleared his throat, knowing he had to get some serious information out of this kid before Dean got out of the shower. "Sammy," he asked picking the cup up off the couch and moving it back to the window sill. "What exactly did the man say to you that brought you through the door?"

Sammy sat up and reached for his stuffed dog, looking suddenly nervous.

"You mentioned he said something about teaching you a lesson. What do you think he meant?"

Sammy bit his lip and looked out the window. "I think because... I wasn't listening to Dean." there was a slight tremble in his chin.

"What were you doing?"

"I wanted to play outside."

"I thought you went out for apples?"

"We did, but then I wanted to run. We'd been inside for a long time and I wanted to run to the woods. I was going to come right back..."

"Sometimes you just want to do your own thing, huh?"

Sammy had looked like he was going to cry, but then his eyes widened in surprise. He nodded.

"It's ok, I get it. I would have wanted to play too, after being inside for so long. It's kind of hard having people telling you what to do all the time, isn't it?"

Sammy seemed to relax a bit. He nodded then, sadly. "I waited until Dean was up in the tree and then I ran."

"And then the man found you?"

"I got to the woods and Dean was yelling for me to come back. I started to run back and the man grabbed me." Sammy was starting to shake.

"And what did he say?"

"He said it was time for the Winchester boys to learn a lesson." Sammy's voice was trembling now and the tears were building. "I shouldn't have ran..."

"Hey, it's not your fault, ok?"

But Sammy was getting worked up. "I should have listened. I saw Dean get out of the tree and run towards us. What if he got Dean too? What if he hurts Dean?"

Sam hadn't noticed that the shower had been off for a while. Suddenly, Dean was there clad in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, towel around his neck, hair dripping on Sam as he leaned over and picked Sammy up. "Hey, kiddo... nobody's gonna hurt your brother, ok?" He shot an irritated glance at Sam.

Sam pressed his lips together and stood up.

Dean carried Sammy to the other side of the room. "Hey, it's ok... you're all right, ok?" He spoke softly trying to calm Sammy down.

Even at age 5 Sammy was getting used to trying to reign in the tears. He couldn't always do it, but he was better at it than most kids his age. He took a deep breath and chewed on his lower lip.

"What do you say you and I go get some fresh air for a bit? I saw a park a few blocks from here. You could play on the swings for a little while. What do you think?"

Sammy frowned and squirmed in Dean's arms. "No."

Dean put him down. "No?"

"No. I want to go look for Dean."

Dean sighed. "Ok. Go brush your teeth and get dressed. We'll go look for Dean."

Sammy scampered off to the bathroom.

Dean ran the towel back over his hair again and threw it to the foot of his bed.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. An idea had suddenly dawned on him. There was something in Dean's body language that he was picking up on. His brother had a problem on his mind that he was working through. Something big and Sam was pretty sure it was not how to get Sammy back to his home universe. "What are you doing?"

Dean glared back at him. "Nothing."

"Exactly. You've been doing absolutely... nothing since we found him."

"What do you want? Somebody's gotta watch this kid."

"Dean," Sam really didn't want to start something up again, but he was getting a sense that Dean up to something that he wasn't going to like. "You haven't lifted a finger to figure this out. You've been taking him shopping, reading books and playing dinosaurs. Now you're headed to the park to pretend to be looking for the other Dean, but you know damn well you're not going to find him. You're stalling for time with him aren't you?"

But that wasn't quite it. Dean was ignoring him too easily. He hadn't touched a nerve. Dean had gone to the kitchenette and was slicing up apples and putting them in a bowl. He called to Sammy over his shoulder. "Shake a leg squirt, I'm gonna leave without you!"

Sam reached for an apple slice and Dean swatted his hand away. "That's for Sammy."

"I _am_ Sammy!" Sam blurted out with a just a hint of resentment in his voice. He immediately regretted saying it and was completely embarrassed by the look of amusement that crossed Dean's face.

"Dude. You were the one who picked up the food. If you wanted some for yourself no one was stopping you."

Sam glared at him. And then a sudden realization hit him. He wasn't sure how the pieces has suddenly fit together in his mind, but he figured it out. He looked at Dean in disbelief. "You're thinking of not letting him go, aren't you?"

Dean just kept slicing.

Sam's jaw dropped. "_Oh my God_! You're actually thinking of keeping him here?"

Dean put the knife down and stepped forward then his eyes smoldering. "You're damn right I'm thinking about it! You _know_ what's going to happen to him if we send him back there."

"Dean! How can you even think of taking him away from-"

"From who? From _me_? From the one who screwed things up in the first place? How can I not?" He was trying hard to keep his voice down, but things were intensifying quickly. "How can I send him back there, Sam? How? Send him back to where I drag him away from his normal life to go back to hunting ghosts? Where I leave him on his own for 4 months learning how to drink demon blood? Where I just abandon him and-" Dean had to stop and suck in a breath before he completely lost control.

Sam took that opportunity to interject. "And so what, you're going to just take him away from his family? Dean, he's not going to want to stay here, he _wants_ to go back!"

"Because he doesn't know! Sam, I can't let that happen! I have to keep him safe-"

"By lying to him for the rest of his life? Because that's what you'll have to do. If he knows you kept him from going back, he's going to spend the rest of his life trying to get away from you to get back where he belongs."

"Oh. So same old, same old?"

The words hit Sam like a blade as he turned away and scrubbed a hand over his face, one hand on his hip. He forced down the anger that was bubbling up to the surface yet again.

"Look," Dean said, lowering his voice. "I just need some time to think this through, ok? I'll figure this out-"

Sammy chose that moment to step out of the bathroom. His eyes were wide as he looked at the boys. "Are you fighting?"

Dean walked over and lifted him off the floor. "'Course not. Are you ready, kiddo?"

Sammy nodded, looking at Sam doubtfully.

"C'mon," Dean said handing Sammy the bowl of apple slices. "You can eat these in the car."

Sammy took the bowl and started munching on a piece of fruit.

Dean shot Sam a glance. "We'll be back around lunch time. I need to get some air," he said, his voice still gravelly with emotion.

The fire of anger growing in the pit of Sam's stomach was at least partially smothered as Dean dropped a second bowl of apple slices beside his laptop on the way out the door.


	9. The Swords We Carried

**Writer's note**: A bit of a technical chapter here, but very important to the story! Stay with me... I promise lots and LOTS of brother fluff later! And Sam-girls, I'm asking for a little trust here... I'm going to try to show BOTH sides. Special thanks to shahenaaz80 for helping to shed some light on a few things! :)

* * *

_Ghosts and angels are but memories and visions_  
_And revenants are out there taking up positions_  
_But back when I believed in you_  
_You'd raise the sun and set the moon_  
_How could I help but love you holy as religion_  
_Away you are going, away you are gone_

_But back when I believed in luck and words as spoken_  
_I found a lie could break and split the world clean open_  
_And grief became my company_  
_Pain so deep I could not breathe_  
_All betrayal is like dying in slow motion_

_The Swords We Carried ~ Mary Chapin Carpenter_

He was pretty sure he had figured it out. He'd gone over it a dozen times in his head, but it didn't make a lot of sense. It would be nice, Sam thought, to have someone to run it by because it all seemed completely crazy. But that wasn't going to happen. His brother only had one thing on his mind right now, and it wasn't how to help Sam.

Sam had swallowed his frustration and weighed the risks of going alone. There were still a few missing pieces to the puzzle, but he was fairly certain that none of them were in danger. Fairly certain.

He had wandered out to the woods about twenty minutes after Dean had left to where they'd been looking the day before. The sky was getting a little dark again, threatening another possible storm later in the day. He wandered in a circle around the area that Sammy had taken them to, poking at rocks, moving the leaves around with his feet.

"Ok," Sam said to the open air. "I'm here. I'm ready to listen."

For several moments, there was no response but the wind rustling the leaves at his feet. Then there was a low humming sound, and even though a part of him had been expecting it, the slight flash of light caught him off guard, and he shielded his face.

When he dropped his arm, he was not alone in the forest. A old man stood about 20 feet away from him. He was dressed in khaki pants and a button up shirt with a dark blazer. His beard was a silvery gray and his white, wispy hair fluttered in the slight breeze. He was smiling and walking, slightly hunched over, towards Sam. He didn't look at all threatening, but Sam pulled out his blade.

"Ah, Sam Winchester. It is a pleasure to finally meet you face to face," he said, completely ignoring Sam's weapon.

"Frank?" Sam asked suspiciously, poised to strike if needed. "Frank Dobbs?"

The man nodded. "I thought you'd figure it out. Though I have to admit, I underestimated you. It only took you a day and a half? That's not bad."

"You're the physicist... from Princeton? The one who found the gateway. So it's real."

"Formerly from Princeton," he corrected jovially. "And of course it's real! Why, you've had a 5 year old bundle of living proof that it's real for the past couple of days."

"Where's your sister? Are you alone?"

Frank looked suddenly more serious, almost sad. "Althea passed away. Many years ago. Yes," he said, looking pointedly at Sam. "I'm very much alone. I have been for some time."

Sam still regarded him nervously, his posture tense and ready. "So are you here to take Sammy back to where he belongs? Or at least explain what the hell is going on?"

Frank shook his head, completely unfazed by the knife Sam was holding. "I think you know what's going on, don't you?"

Sam faltered slightly. "I have a theory. But it doesn't make a lot of sense. That 'lesson for the Winchester boys'- that's for me and my brother... not our younger counterparts, isn't it?"

Frank's eyes shone like he was almost proud of Sam for figuring it out.

"What I can't figure out is _why,_" Sam went on, keeping his knife out and keeping his distance from the strange man who had appeared in the woods before his eyes. "Why are you doing this? I mean, why do you care? You can go anywhere, see anything and this is what you decide to do? Create some overly dramatic situation to help resolve a disagreement between Dean and me?"

Frank, smiled. "Well, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound very noble at all," he chuckled in amusement. "Sam, first of all, I assure you, I mean no harm to any of you. My intention is only to help."

"To _help_?" Sam said, raising his eyebrows. "You drop a little 5 year old kid off in the middle of nowhere in a rainstorm, scared to death with a couple of strangers, and this is how you help?"

"You're not strangers. Haven't you seen how he's taken to your brother? He knows you. At least, he knows Dean. He's not sure about you, but he knows Dean."

"How do you do it?" Sam asked, curiosity beginning to win out over defensive suspicion.

"What, sliding between the universes?"

Sam's eyes were wide with fascination. "Yeah, I mean... how?"

Frank chuckled again and shook his head. "Sam. When you get your degree in quantum mechanics, perhaps you could come and find me in another universe. Until then, one thing at a time. Why don't we work on something a bit more basic that you should be able to understand. For example, this... problem you've been having with your brother." Frank's demeanor changed suddenly and now he was looking very stern, like a frustrated grandfather.

Sam clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at Frank, returning to his previous train of thought. "This doesn't make any sense. Why do you care? You act like you know us. Do you?"

"Not exactly. I have my reasons. My time is running out in this universe. I do not have time to explain my background, my family history, or quantum entanglement and string theory to you, nor do I have the desire to. My sister and I had a very, very bad argument right before she passed away and I was lucky that things were resolved before it was too late. I have seen my impending death and I plan to spend the time I have left with Althea in a different universe, the same universe Sammy is from."

Sam just stared at him, trying to take in everything Frank was telling him. He still wasn't making any sense.

"Before I go, I wanted to do something good here in the dimension I am from. This was my timeline, Sam. I wanted you to really see what you were doing. What you were giving up on. And I think your eyes have been opened, at least somewhat."

"So, you came back to your timeline to do a good deed and you picked us out of the billions of people in the world?"

Frank smiled and nodded. "I did. Now it's time to return things to the way they were meant to be," he said and reached into the pocket of his jacket.

Sam tensed and raised his knife.

Frank shook his head, as though Sam were a petulant child. "Here. This is how I do it," he said, handing Sam a dark, flat disk with a reflective surface.

"What is this?"

"It's a shew stone. It belonged to John Dee." Frank said, the slight smile back on his face. He fully expected Sam to know who he was talking about.

"The mage... from the 1500's?"

"The very same."

"I've seen this. I mean, pictures of it. It's in a museum in England."

"No, it's in your hand. The one in the museum is a replica. Oh, they think it's the real thing, but what they don't know won't hurt them."

"How do you have this?" Sam asked, taking the disc and examining it carefully. He looked back at Frank then, having remembered something else. "This John Dee... he worked with a medium, Edward Kelly. They were claiming to have contact with the angels. How is-"

Frank continued to smile as he saw the lightbulb go on over Sam's head.

"He was a Man of Letters," Sam breathed.

Frank nodded. "One of the originals."

"And you- but I thought they were all wiped out by Abbadon?"

Frank laughed. "All what? All _four_ of them? Sam, the Men of Letters had chapters scattered across the country. Artifacts, too. But the key was gone, the demons were after us... we all went into hiding. And... slowly began to die off, waiting for Henry to return. But he never did."

Sam just stared at him. "That's why you're here. That's why you chose us."

"Althea and I knew Henry. He was a good man. A very good man. We grew up together. I've been researching time travel and parallel universes since I was old enough to sign books out of the library. Now, Henry was no physicist, but he was a smart kid. He, Althea and I did a lot of work together. We figured out the time travel spell- the blood sigil. And we also figured out that it wasn't something that should be messed with. But...in a pinch, a Winchester will do whatever it takes. As you know." Frank raised his eyebrows, his expression somewhat scolding.

Sam met his gaze and looked away quickly.

"So, that's when my sister and I started really working on the idea of the parallel universes, after Henry disappeared. It's not time travel, not exactly... not quite as easy to mess things up, you know what I mean?"

Sam just looked at him blankly. He didn't know. And although Frank kept providing answers, Sam just kept coming up with more questions.

Frank sighed. "You and your brother have battled ghosts, monsters, and some of the greatest evil this world has ever known. You have saved so many lives. You are part of what little is left of a once powerful legacy. And now? Now you behave like... like common fools!" Frank spat the last part of his sentence in a fury. Or as much of a fury as a little old man in a blazer could muster.

Sam held his gaze, but could hardly defend himself against what Frank was saying.

Frank lowered his voice and Sam was sure he saw tears rimming the edges of the old man's eyes. "I will not go quietly from this life as you tear apart what is left of the only family I ever knew."

Sam was still processing everything when Frank reached over and turned the disc in his hand.

"Here," Frank said, pointing to the reflective surface. "Look."

Sam studied the disc where an image was slowly appearing. He could make out a young boy in what looked like a bedroom and as the image was just starting to come into focus, Frank placed a small gold coin over the top of the disc, angled the disc in Sam's hand towards where the sun was just struggling to peek out from behind a cloud and uttered something in Enochian. There was a sudden flash of light.

"What the hell just happened?" Sam asked, looking around. They were still in the woods, but something was off. The woods looked different. "What did you do?" Sam lunged at him, putting the blade to his throat.

Frank didn't even flinch. "Come with me," he said quietly, but with a tone that dared Sam to argue with him.

They walked through the woods back to the motel. But even that was different. The cars were different. The sky was terribly dark. Everything was wrong.

"What's going on?"

"I needed your help with something. Dean needs to come with us to get young Sam. Sam is not going to come back with me willingly and your brother is not going to give him up if he doesn't want to go."

"And what if Dean refuses to let him go?"

"Then we have a very big problem."

"Then I think you just took a very big risk. I don't think you know what he's capable of when it comes to... me."

"Nor do you, Sam. Nor do you."

Sam followed along behind Frank, surprised at how quickly the little old man moved.

"The most important part of this lesson, Sam, is something your brother needs to see."

Sam tensed at the thought of this stranger threatening to teach his brother anything. "What do you mean 'something he needs to see'?"

Frank let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, Sam. Your brother is about to see things more clearly than he ever has before."

Sam grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "You've done enough to him already- seeing this... this little version of me is tearing him apart!"

Frank staggered a bit and straightened his blazer, annoyed. He composed himself and regarded Sam coolly. "Yes. And why do you think that is?"

Sam lowered his eyebrows and clenched his jaw, not able to answer. He knew why, but it was tearing him apart inside, too.

Frank didn't hesitate to answer for him. "He's remembering how much you used to love and respect him. How much you used to rely on him... trust him. These are not things that diminish with age, Sam. They simply change. Your brother still wants your respect and your trust and he's seeing very clearly now that he has lost them. You're supposed to be 'the smart one'- the studious brother, reading the books, finding the answers, and yet this simple thing you have refused to see for so long. Dean sacrifices and protects and exhibits a level of devotion rarely found in mankind and has done so for his _entire life_. The decisions he's had to make in his lifetime have been nothing short of monumental. And he has to make them repeatedly, sometimes in a split second. Unfortunately, this means that when he makes mistakes, they can be pretty damn big ones. You were right to call him out on this most recent one, but you've gone beyond 'calling him out' at this point. Now you're responding with cruelty because of your own lack of self worth!"

Sam dropped his gaze.

"You have made him doubt his own strength, made him lose so much faith in himself and he didn't have much to begin with. I am sorry. I know this is harsh, and your brother has made terrible mistakes, but he has also made enormous sacrifices. I could list them for you, but let's just go right to the top of that list, shall we? Have you forgotten the day he let you fall into the pit? Do you know how hard it was for him to let you go that day? Even having you back with him now, he will carry that scar forever."

The words hit Sam like a punch to the stomach.

"Sam. You have a right to be angry for what was done to you. You have a right to express this anger to your brother and even the right to deny him forgiveness. But if that is the path you have chosen, then the right thing is to take your own advice and let him go. Walk away. Do not continue to torture him by dragging him through the agony of experiencing your anger and resentment day after day. To continuously remind him that you don't trust him any more, that you don't love him-"

That was too much. Sam looked back at Frank, his eyes blazing. "I love my brother! Don't you _dare_ tell me-"

"Really? Do you think he knows this?"

_Does he love you to the moon and back?_ Sam remembered Sammy asking Dean this question. And he remembered that Dean couldn't answer.

"Sam, I wanted you to be reminded of the depth of his love and devotion to you so that you could see that even after what he's done, even if you decide that you don't owe him your forgiveness this time, you at least owe him his freedom." Frank turned again and was moving with agitated determination across the motel parking lot.

Sam followed him, becoming more and more nervous about the fact that everything looked so familiar and yet... not.

"I need you to get your brother and bring him to the portal."

They were standing beside the motel as Sam looked at him confused. "He isn't here. He took Sammy and-"

Frank looked positively exasperated. "Your _young_ brother, Sam. We are no longer in your universe."

Sam looked over to the motel window where a young boy shoved the curtains back and looked out into the parking lot. His frightened green eyes were filled with tears as he glanced around and retreated back into the room.

_Dean_...


	10. Breaking Inside

**Writer's note**: Thank you so much for all your support so far! I appreciate the faithful reviewers and also love to hear from anyone who has just discovered the story. Hope you all enjoy chapter 10 and here's hoping we all have a good Tuesday night tomorrow!

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Dean sat down on the bench and watched Sammy wander around the playground for a few minutes "looking for Dean". Dean had told him that if his brother came looking for him, one of the first places he might check would be a playground. He felt bad about lying to the kid, but he needed some time to think.

Eventually, finding nothing, Sammy sat down and played on the swings. Dean sighed, running his hand through his hair. This was the first time he'd been able to get away and clear his head. In the little motel room, they were all practically on top of each other. Even in the privacy of a quick shower he had overheard Sammy getting upset as soon as he'd turned off the water, and there had been no more thinking after that. Just instinct.

But now Sammy was playing quietly by himself a good, but still safe distance away. And Dean was away from Sam's seemingly constant bitterness, the sight of which was so painful that Dean couldn't think _at all_ when he was around him. Part of him still couldn't get past feeling hurt over Sam's reaction to everything that had happened. He knew he'd be pissed, but he'd never dreamed that Sam would have stayed so mad for so long. It was really starting to look like this was it for the two of them. And although it was ripping him apart, Dean knew that eventually, staying together would destroy both of them.

But now, in the bright early morning in the quiet little park, he had other things, more immediate things that needed his attention. In this finally quiet moment, he let the wheels turn. He could figure this out.

Sammy could not go back, that much was certain. There was no way Dean was going to willingly let him walk back into a life where so much pain and suffering awaited him. I can make this work, he thought. There were a number of things to consider, but he _had_ to make it work.

There was plenty of room in the bunker, that was for sure. Plenty of things to keep Sammy occupied and entertained. There were so many books, and Dean could help him learn to read. At this age, he was probably well on his way. He could have his own room, a computer, toys, whatever he wanted.

Then there was the reality that this would be absolute hell on his young counterpart. Dean didn't feel great about that, but he also knew full well who was responsible for most of what happened to Sam. He would be damned if he'd allow Sammy to go through all that again.

Then there would be times when he and Sam would need to be gone and Sammy would have to stay behind. That was of course, if Sam was still in the picture... _One thing at a time_, Dean reminded himself as the sick feelings started swimming in his stomach at the thought of separation from his brother. So, there would be times when Sammy would be alone. Dean was not going to raise the kid to be a hunter. He thought about whom he might trust enough to be able to help. Maybe Jody? Yes, Jody would love Sammy. And then, not that he could imagine doing it, but if worse came to worse, he could drop Sammy off at Sonny's Home for Boys, temporarily of course, if they were on a hunt.

Something about that didn't settle well in his chest. Not that Sonny wouldn't be great with Sammy, but the idea of leaving him just seemed so... John Winchester. He wished desperately that Bobby was still alive. Bobby would've been great. But even so, he could picture Sammy not adjusting right away... or maybe at all. Maybe Sam was right and he'd just spend his whole life angry and trying to get back to his own dimension.

I can't let that happen, Dean thought with forced determination. I can't let him go through all the crap I know is coming for him. He'll _have_ to adjust.

Even as he was telling himself this, the uneasiness was growing in the pit of his stomach. He braced himself against the welling discomfort and tried to continued with his train of thought. But Sam was right... Dean was pretty sure he could picture Sammy trying to get back to his own Dean. He could imagine him growing bitter and as he got older, as stubborn as he was, it was very likely that he would focus everything he had on getting back to where he came from. And Dean knew he couldn't let that happen either. Would he get over it eventually? Probably not. So maybe, Dean thought, if things are just going too far and he just can't let go of his past, I can just have Cas erase his...

There was a brief moment when time seemed to stop completely. There was no sound, no smell in the air, just a simple thought hovering in his mind.

And then the realization hit him like a freight train. It slammed into him stealing his breath and his ability to even move. The blood in his veins turned to ice as he sat there, frozen on the bench. The sky was a clear blue and the wind blew softly across the little playground. There was a small squeak that sounded rhythmically from the swing set where Sammy moved back and forth, his feet dangling listlessly, barely reaching the ground.

Dean finally sucked in air and realized he had actually stopped breathing for a moment. _Sam... Oh, dear God, Sam..._

_ What did I do?_

It made sense then all of a sudden, there, in the middle of a playground, watching his baby brother swing back and forth. He'd told Sam years and years ago, "For you...The things I'm willing to do... It scares me sometimes." The real truth of those words was hitting him hard. Erase his brother's memories? Like he'd done to Ben and Lisa... Did he seriously just consider that as a possible solution? If it was actually his own Sam on the line, erasing his memories would be a line he simply knew shouldn't be crossed for any reason. But in some ways, Sammy _was_ his brother. It was close enough to shake him to his core.

This was what Sam was talking about. This was why Sam couldn't forgive him. This was the kind of thing that had pushed him over the edge and for whatever reason, Dean had been completely unable to see it until now. Until he had actually considered _taking away his brother's memories_. How was giving complete control of his brother's mind and body to angel, and then-God help him- to a _demon_ much different?

But now that he understood...He lifted himself shakily of the bench. He had to get back to Sam. But... then what? Apologize? Hey, bro... sorry about letting you get possessed and all, but man, you should have heard what else I almost did to your little counterpart!

He sat back down suddenly. He couldn't apologize for this. He had finally screwed up so badly that there was no way out. Steeling himself against guilt and grief, he forced himself up again and took a few shaky steps forward.

"Sammy?" he called weakly and made his way over to where the little boy sat forlornly, his head down, staring at his shoes.

"Sammy," Dean repeated, squatting down beside the swing set. "Buddy, I... I don't think your brother is here."

Sammy looked at him from underneath his mop of brown hair, big hazel eyes full of tears. If there had been any doubt left in Dean's mind about his decision to get Sammy back home, it was gone. Sammy looked lost, hopeless. And now Dean could see it plainly. Sammy wanted to go home. And nothing, nothing at all could change that. For Dean to even think of keeping Sammy here, to even entertain the thought of... no. He couldn't even think about that anymore without feeling seriously ill.

Sammy looked down again. "I don't think we're going to find him."

Dean reached up and steadied himself against the pole of the swingset. "Don't talk like that. Don't. We will find him. We will get you home. Come here..."

Sammy's face crumbled as he climbed out of the swing and walked over to Dean. "I don't think he's looking," he choked out.

"Sammy," Dean whispered desperately, reaching out to the trembling little boy.

Sammy immediately accepted the offer of comfort and fell into Dean's waiting arms.

"Of course he's looking. Why would you think that?" Dean struggled to keep his voice steady.

"Because I didn't listen to him. I don't do what he tells me sometimes."

"And you know what, kiddo? That's ok. _Sometimes_," he said pressing Sammy to his chest. "Sometimes you have to make your own choices. Maybe not so much right now, 'cause you're awful little... but soon, ok? Soon you'll be old enough to decide things for yourself. Dean's gonna have a hard time with that because he can't stand to see you get hurt, but... you're gonna grow up and he's gonna have to let you do your own thing." Even if... Dean gritted his teeth against the welling tears. Don't think about it... don't think about it...

Dean sighed, realizing that even if Sammy wasn't sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder, he probably wouldn't understand half of what Dean was trying to tell him. So he just sat down on the grass and held him. He nuzzled his face into the little boy's hair and closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. I'm gonna bring you home, ok? I will. I know that's what you want. I'll help you. Everything is gonna be ok." That is such a lie, he thought bitterly. That is such a lie.

Sammy's breath was coming in between little hiccups.

"And Sammy, your brother is looking, ok? I know he is. No matter what you do or what you think you've done, he's always gonna love you, you know that? You remember what we talked about?"

"T-to the m-moon?" Sammy said, his voice shaking.

"Right up to the moon and back. Like the rabbits in that story, remember?"

Sammy swallowed and nodded, looking at Dean with that face, that expression full of trust that he hadn't seen in so long.

"Forever," Dean summoned all the strength he had left to keep back his own tears. "No matter what. That's the truth, ok?" And if there was anything he could feel good about, it was that. Because that _was_ the truth.

Sammy nodded again, a little smile starting to peek through the sad face.

"He's probably really scared right now, you know? But I was thinking- I'll bet Sam has some things figured out that would help us find him. My little brother, he's... he's really smart. Do you want to go back to the motel and see?"

Sammy leaned back in Dean's arms and looked up at him, his little face so full of hope and innocence that Dean could have cried.

"Yes. I miss Dean," he said tearfully, rubbing his eyes.

Hearing his name in that tiny little voice just about wrecked him. Dean ran his hand over Sammy's hair and wiped the tears off his face. "I know you do. You're a good kid, you know that?"

Sammy regarded him doubtfully, but didn't say anything.

Dean rested his chin on Sammy's head and tried to steady his breathing. He had really messed up this time. Really, really messed up.


	11. Hey, Brother

**Writer's note**: I had to laugh after posting the last chapter... I put it up at about 11:30 at night thinking, 'I probably shouldn't do this... by the time people are up and about and checking fanfiction, this will be buried under 5 new pages of recently published stuff.' But in the morning I had a bunch of reviews. Do you people sleep? Haha! Some of you had to have been reading ch. 10 at an ungodly hour. Well, please know I appreciate it! Hope you enjoy ch. 11 and I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback!

* * *

Frank took the shew stone from Sam and patted him on the arm. "Go talk to your brother. I'll be back in a little while."

Sam tore his gaze from the motel window and stared at Frank. "Wait, WAIT! Where are you going? What am I supposed to tell him?"

Frank tucked the stone into the pocket of his blazer and smiled sadly at Sam. "How about the truth, Sam? For once, why don't we try the truth?"

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but the words died on his lips. He cast a glance back towards the window, and when he turned back towards Frank, the old man was already gone. Sam cursed under his breath.

Sam approached the door cautiously and knocked. "Dean?"

There was no answer and no sound from inside, but Sam knew exactly what was going on behind the closed door. He knew he needed to proceed with extreme caution. Even at ten years old, this was one dangerous kid.

"Dean, come on... open up," Sam said, knowing Dean wouldn't just open the door without- "Oh! The password is, uh... Thundercats."

There was silence, and then a rattle of the door chain, the click of a lock. Sam waited a moment and when the door didn't open, he tried the knob. He turned it and pushed the door open.

He was not entirely surprised to find himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. What _did_ surprise him was the 10 year old that was holding it. When Sam had been young, this boy had been a larger than life, brave, strong super-hero. This was not the Dean that Sam remembered. This was a terrified ten year old child who looked like he hadn't had a decent meal or a good night's sleep in days. And though he looked angry, he also looked like he was about to cry.

"Where. Is. My. Brother?" Dean growled through clenched teeth.

"Look, it's ok, I-"

"Who the _hell_ are you and who told you the password?"

"Dude, put the gun down."

Dean just stared at him, trying his best to look menacing. Sam had to admit, as much as he could see Dean's fear, he also figured it would be best if he could avoid a confrontation. As frightened as he seemed to be, Dean also had that unmistakeable if-you-messed-with-my-brother-I-WILL-try-to-kill-you look on his face.

"It's me," Sam said, studying the kid's face for any sign of recognition. Frank had said to tell the truth...

"Me who?"

Sam lowered himself down on the couch, not entirely confident in this whole 'full disclosure' idea. "Uh... ok. You want the truth?"

"No, dumbass, I want you to lie to me! Of course I want the truth! _Who are you_? And where the hell is my brother?"

Sam's lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. The ten year old sounded so much like his adult self. "Ok. Well, brace yourself because even with everything you've seen, this is gonna blow your mind."

Dean didn't move.

Sam sighed. "I _am_ your brother. I'm Sam."

To anyone who didn't know him, Dean's face would have been unreadable. Sam had to hand it to him, even as a pre-teen, the kid had mastered his poker face. But this was the person that Sam knew better than anyone else. And in Dean's eyes he saw shock, doubt and then anger. After a moment, he glared at Sam and steadied the shotgun. "How about this- you want the truth from me? Because this is the truth. I'm going to put a bullet right between your eyes if you don't tell me who you are. How does that sound?"

Sam swallowed. He was beginning to realize that his initial impression of a frightened child might have been a bit of an underestimation. Generally, he could assume that Dean would never kill a human. But if Dean thought that human had done something to his brother...

"Seriously," Sam said raising his hands. "Your brother got taken to a parallel universe. He's with the older version of you right now. I'm the older version of him." Sam couldn't believe how ridiculous this all sounded, but Frank had said to tell the truth. And Sam didn't really know what else to do.

He did his best to explain everything that had happened, all the while confessing an understanding that this all sounded quite unbelievable.

And then he pulled out his last resort. Full on puppy dog eyes. He looked up at Dean with the most sincere, most pathetic, most heart-wrenching look he could muster. And for a moment, he was sure he was out of ammo and up the creek without a paddle.

But then something in Dean's expression softened. Followed by his entire posture. And then the gun lowered just a fraction of an inch, and Sam knew he had him. He held his gaze, eyebrows raising slightly, lips pressed together.

"That's the truth. I'm Sam from 2014. Did you see the man at the edge of the woods?"

"The old guy? Yeah... I saw him take off with my brother."

"Well, he- Dean, can you please just..." Sam motioned nervously towards the gun.

Dean seemed suddenly surprised that he even had a gun in his hands. He reluctantly laid it on the bed and backed up away from Sam.

"Dude, relax. I'm not gonna hurt you, ok?"

"I'm not afraid of you." Dean shot back angrily.

It was at that moment that Sam noticed the bandage around Dean's arm and the blood leaking out from under it. "What happened to you?" he asked, alarmed.

Dean looked confused for a moment, then followed Sam's gaze to his arm. "What- oh, this? I cut it on the apple tree. I kind of got down too fast and wasn't paying attention."

"Can I see it?" Sam asked, standing up.

"I'm fine!" Dean growled. He sat down on the bed and reached for the gun.

Sam took a step back and put his hands up again. "Dean, come on... it's me."

Dean looked at him then, both recognition and doubt in his eyes. And complete fear in his body language.

"Really," Sam said softly, not coming any closer. "I know, it's crazy..."

Dean seemed to relax a bit but pressed himself up against the headboard of the bed, his huge green eyes searching Sam's face. "How can- you're... you're a freaking giant!"

Sam grinned sheepishly. "So you keep telling me. Taller than you, by the way."

Dean's eyes narrowed, his posture relaxing a bit more. "You still have that stupid hair..."

Sam smirked. "Yep... hear that one all the time too. 'Just give me 5 minutes and a pair of clippers' is my new favorite."

The corners of Dean's mouth turned up then as he gazed at the tall, older version of his brother standing before him.

"Sammy? What the hell-" Dean whispered, the doubt fading somewhat.

"I know. Can I look at that arm now?"

Dean nodded without taking his eyes off Sam.

Sam approached him slowly as he might a wounded animal. "Not gonna hurt you, ok?"

Dean extended his arm but tensed again, shotgun within easy reach. "I know, Andre." Dean replied, his smartass attitude masking his fear.

Sam ignored him and gently lifted the bandage. "Is your first aid kit around here somewhere?"

Dean motioned towards the bathroom and Sam went to retrieve it.

"So is Sammy ok?" Dean called after him.

"He's fine," Sam said, returning with the kit and a towel. "He's with you, remember?"

"You know how to get back to where he is?" Dean asked.

"Well, not exactly, but I know someone who does."

"That old guy?"

"Yeah. He dropped me off here and then he took off. Said he'd be back in a little while."

"Where did he go?"

Sam shrugged as he carefully poured peroxide on Dean's cut.

Dean hissed and flinched.

"Easy," Sam whispered, keeping a firm grasp on the kid's arm.

"Why'd you let him go?"

"I didn't, he just kind of disappeared."

"So how are we gonna find him? He took Sammy! We've got to find him or-" Dean's voice was escalating with panic.

"Relax, he said he'd be back-"

"How do you know he wasn't lying? How do you know he wasn't just planning to drop you off and leave you-"

"Dean! Settle down!"

"_You_ settle down! I need to find my brother!"

"I know!" Sam reached for him and Dean shot back against the headboard again. Sam softened his voice then. "I know. We're gonna find him. He's going to come back, ok?"

Dean's eyes were wild with fear and anger.

"Look, I know you're freaked out being all by yourself right now with Dad gone and Sammy-"

"By myself? I don't give a shit about being by myself, I'm worried about my brother! He's _five years old_ and somebody took him! I don't know if he's safe, if they hurt him, if he's scared... and I swear to God when I find the son of a bitch who took him-" Dean's voiced hitched with emotion then and he stopped for a minute to compose himself.

And in the silence, it hit Sam like a ton of bricks. It wasn't about being alone... it had never been about that. At least, not most of the time. The true acts of desperation were not about being alone or missing Sam. It was Dean being driven out of his mind with fear for his little brother's safety.

"What?" Dean growled.

Sam realized he was staring at him.

"Nothing. I just...C'mon. Let me finish cleaning that cut. You really made a mess of it."

"Yeah and what- now you're a surgeon or something? "

Sam caught his gaze, almost sadly. "You and I have done our fair share of patching each other up over the years."

Dean shut up then and let Sam work.

Sam cleaned the cut and fixed the bandage. He was satisfied that it would heal without stitches, but there was so much more here that he couldn't fix. He had noticed the slight shake in the little arm he was holding. He saw the sadness in the eyes, heard the tremor in the voice. He knew from experience that this kid was so close to tears, but he would never give into them. He was so desperate for comfort, but didn't know how to accept it, or wouldn't allow himself to. Sam wanted so badly to reach out to him, but he couldn't get near him. This frightened little boy was trapped in the body of a child soldier and Sam's heart broke for him.

"You worried about what Dad will say?" Sam asked, just for something to say.

"No," Dean said shaking his head in a tone that clearly stated that they'd already been over this. "I'm worried about _Sammy_."

There was a knock at the door.

Dean leapt off the bed, grabbing the shotgun and stood protectively between Sam and the door.

Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Dean, just- hang on. Frank?"

"Yes," came the familiar voice from outside.

Sam went over to unlock the door.

"Sam!" Dean barked grabbing for his arm.

"Relax!" Sam ordered, hands out towards Dean, motioning for him to bring it down a notch.

Dean glared at him.

Sam sighed and stood up to his full height giving Dean a bitchface that actually made Dean have to suppress a little smirk. Sam turned then and opened the door.

Frank stepped inside and Dean immediately had him at gunpoint.

"Dean," Sam sighed, irritated.

"Where is my brother?" he demanded, ignoring Sam.

Frank smiled at him, hands behind his back. "He's right here," he said looking up at Sam.

"The normal sized one!"

Frank chuckled and shook his head. "Come on. It's time to go and find him. I trust the two of you had a nice chat?"

Sam glared at him. "You never went anywhere, did you? You just wanted..."

Frank made no effort to deny the accusation.

"Both of you can shut the hell up! Let's go!" Dean snarled. "And I'm bringing this!" he said, gripping the shotgun in his hands.

"No, you're not!"

"Shut up, Gigantor, I'm bringing it!"

"Dean, _no_. Seriously."

Dean scowled at him and reluctantly tossed the gun onto the bed.

"And you can lose the one in your back pocket, too."

Dean glanced menacingly over at Frank

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. He marveled for a moment over the stark difference between the tiny 5 year old who had thrown himself into Dean's arms within 20 minutes of meeting him and cuddled up under his chin. _This_ child was completely different. He was wild, ferral, ready to do whatever he needed to do to get his brother back. Sammy wanted the same thing, but would take comfort where he could find it along the way. "It figures," Sam said under his breath. "Dean gets baby bear cub and I get to deal with mama grizzly."

Dean did not take his eyes off of Frank as he removed the pistol from his waistband and tossed it on the bed beside the shotgun.


	12. Sweet Child of Mine

"... and if I stared too long, I'd probably break down and cry."

Sweet Child of Mine ~ Guns 'n' Roses

The three of them ventured out into the parking lot of the motel and off towards the woods, Frank leading the way and Sam and young Dean following close behind. The sky was still gray and a cold, drizzling rain had started falling from the heavy clouds. Dean folded his arms around himself and shivered next to Sam.

"Hey, don't you have a sweatshirt or something?" Sam asked, suddenly realizing that the kid had left the room with nothing on but jeans and a t-shirt. He scolded himself inwardly for not noticing sooner. Dean would have had Sammy in a coat before they'd even walked out the door. Hell, he'd probably be carrying a damn umbrella for the kid, Sam thought, rolling his eyes.

"I forgot it. I'm fine." Dean said as he kept walking.

"Let's just run back and-"

"No! I want to find my brother."

Sam knew that tone, and he knew there was going to be no arguing with him. He also knew he could just go back and make them wait, but instead he sighed and wriggled out of his flannel.

"Hey! I don't need-" Dean batted his arm at Sam who was trying to drape his flannel over his shoulders.

"Knock it off. You wear this or I'm going back to get your sweatshirt and you'll have to wait. Ok?"

Dean huffed and looked up at Sam. He tried to push the sleeves up as they walked. "I'll probably trip and break my neck- how are you so freakishly tall?"

"You're just freakishly short. Now shut up and try to stay warm, all right?" Sam grinned at him and chanced a little pat on Dean's back.

Dean didn't seem to object, and even looked at Sam without a scowl.

They had come to a clearing in the woods and Frank had stopped and was working with the shew stone.

Sam got down in front of Dean and started rolling up the sleeves on the too-long shirt. He expected snarky comments and perhaps a bit of a fight, but when he caught the ten year old's gaze, all he saw was fear, sadness and... gratitude?

"Hey..." he reached out slowly and gently gripped the kids arm. "You ok?"

Dean glanced nervously at Frank and then back to Sam, his eyes communicating everything he couldn't with words: Are you sure this is going to work? I don't trust that guy. Thanks for bringing me, but I'm not sure I trust you, either. I'm scared, but I _need_ to find my brother.

And Sam knew him well enough to hear it all loud and clear. "I know. It's ok. I've done this once already and I'm still in one piece, ok? We're gonna go get your brother. You with me?"

A little bit of confidence returned to Dean's face and he nodded.

"Are we ready?" Frank asked as cheerfully as if they were just headed for a stroll in the park.

"Yeah, let's go," Sam growled at him as he stood. He looked down at his little big brother and decided to take another chance. He lifted his arm a bit and motioned for Dean. "C'mere..."

Dean looked at him for a second and then to Sam's surprise, moved to stand next to him, right under his arm. Sam dropped his hand to Dean's shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. It was slight, but he felt the kid press up against him. Sam could feel him shaking and he knew it wasn't all from the cold.

"'s ok... I've got you." Sam whispered as they stepped through the portal with Frank.

* * *

Dean stood with his hands on his hips looking down at the petulant 5 year old. "Sammy, you have to sit in the seat."

"No."

"Dude, we-"

"_No_."

"We go through this _every time we get in the car_. How is this not sinking in?"

"I don't like it."

"I don't care! This is not a choice-"

"No."

"We'll get pulled over-"

"No."

Dean pressed his hands to his eyes, exasperated. He sighed then. "Well, I guess we'll have to just stay here at the playground and if your brother-"

Sammy wordlessly climbed into the car, sat himself in the car seat and scowled at Dean.

Dean shook his head. It was amazing how things went from horribly, dramatically devastating, to stubborn nonsense or even goofiness with this kid. How were 5 year olds able to bounce so easily from one emotion to the other? But he had to admit, even though he himself had been close to tears just a few minutes ago, he was having trouble not laughing at Sammy's antics.

He leaned into the car and fastened the buckles on the car seat before the kid changed his mind. Once Sammy was strapped down, he tickled him a little.

Sammy squealed and tried to push Dean's hands away.

"You're a real pita sometimes, you know that?"

"What's a pita?" Sammy asked looking confused.

"Pain in the... something that starts with 'A'" Dean said ruffling his hair.

Sammy just stared at him for a minute, clearly trying to think of an suitable 'a' word for the situation. "Automobile?"

And Dean couldn't stop the laugh then if he had tried. "Yes, Sammy. You are a real pain in the automobile."

And Sammy laughed loudly then, only because Dean was laughing. He wasn't actually sure what was so funny.

Dean closed the door and went around to the driver's side. He climbed in and smiled to himself as the tape deck started playing 'Sweet Child of Mine'.

Sammy sang along in the back seat, shamelessly belting out the lyrics that he knew and making up the ones he didn't. Dean kept the volume down low enough so he could hear the little 5 year old voice, not yet old enough to have developed any sort of self-consciousness that would otherwise have prevented the little solo concert. A smile tugged continuously at Dean's lips as he glanced occasionally in the mirror. God, that kid was adorable.

After a little while, the singing turned to humming Sammy started to rub his eyes.

"You getting tired, buddy?"

Sammy yawned. "No."

Dean smirked and shook his head.

"You know what else starts with 'A', Dean?" Sammy asked, eyelids drooping.

"Uhh.. what?" Dean bit his lip, hoping the kid hadn't finally put two and two together and figured out what a 'pita' really was.

"Apple."

"Yes. Apple does start with 'A'. Are you hungry, kiddo?"

Sammy didn't answer him, but the silence was answer enough.

"We've got one more apple and some cereal... and a few other things. We'll find you something to eat, ok?"

When he looked in the rearview mirror again, Sammy's head was flopped over to the side and his eyes were closed.

When they pulled into the motel parking lot, Sammy was still out cold. Dean carefully unbuckled the car seat and lifted him out. The little arms immediately wrapped around his neck as Sammy curled himself up under Dean's chin.

As sappy as he knew it was, Dean stood there, trying to soak in the moment, this gift of a memory that had manifested itself in the form of reality. His breath caught in his throat as a tiny nose pressed up against the side of his neck. He pressed his own nose down into the floppy mop of hair and tried to just breathe as he finally let a couple of tears spill from his eyes. His heart broke as he felt the little hands clutching the fabric of his shirt and heard the sleepy yawn. He was overcome with grief and sorrow as he held on to the little boy who still trusted him... who still loved him. And he knew he had to go inside and face the now grown man who didn't. I'm so, _so_ sorry, Sammy, he thought miserably. I don't even know how to tell you.

* * *

As they emerged on the other side, a thought suddenly occurred to Sam. Maybe Dean was right... maybe keeping them here was something they should consider. Because... how? How could he send Dean back knowing everything that would happen to him? The little boy pressed up against his side deserved better. He deserved to have a childhood. He deserved to be able to play and laugh and even to cry if he needed to and have someone take care of _him_ for once.

But... Sam started to wonder, was that even possible? Was this kid too far gone? And how on earth would this work?

Sam didn't get a chance to sort out his thoughts because within seconds of entering the forest, Dean bolted from under Sam's arm.

And there was Sam's answer. This was why they couldn't stay. They didn't want to. Those kids would take off at every possible opportunity to get back to where they belonged. Even if it meant a ruined childhood and life on the road. They would never stop trying.

"Dean!" Sam shouted after him. "Hey!"

Dean was fast, but Sam caught up to him quickly. He grabbed him as gently as he could and got in front of him.

"Hey-hey-hey- slow down!"

Dean bared his teeth and snarled, "You let me go- _Sammy! SAM!_" he called squirming in Sam's grasp.

"Dean, please. Please! Just listen to me for a second." Sam's voice was desperate. Because although concerned for the young counterparts, he hadn't forgotten his own brother. The last thing he wanted to was have Sammy just yanked out of Dean's arms and that was exactly what would happen if he didn't get _this_ Dean to calm down.

Dean was still squirming and Sam knew he had to douse this fire before the kid started getting violent.

"Listen to me!" Sam demanded. "You've got to calm down or somebody is going to get hurt!"

That stopped him. He froze and met Sam's gaze then. "Sammy?"

"No," Sam said, cautiously loosening his grasp. "Sammy is going to be fine, I'm talking about _my_ brother."

Dean glared then. "I thought _I_ was your brother."

"Yeah... you are, sort of. But I'm talking about the older version. I want you to just think for a second about what's going on here. I know this has been awful for you, you've been totally freaked out... but the 'you' from 2014, my _actual_ brother, has been taking care of 5 year old Sammy for a couple of days. It's been really scary for us too... we didn't know where he came from or how to get him home, but it's still Sammy... and it's still _'you'_ that has him right now-"

"I don't care! That is MY brother we're talking about and- oh, God..."

Sam could see that something terrible had just occurred to the kid. He swallowed nervously.

"He's not going to let him go, is he?" Dean glared accusingly at Sam.

"He's not going to have a choice," Sam said reluctantly. But the truth was he _wasn't_ sure what Dean would do. He only knew he would step in if he had to. The kids had to go back. "Sammy will come right to you. Dean will have to let him go." At least, that was what Sam was hoping.

Dean was looking panicked.

"I just need you to settle down."

"You know I'm not going just stand here and-"

"I'm not asking you to," Sam said softly. "I'm not asking you to. I just want you to think about what will happen if you go running in there and try to take him. You know exactly what this will do to him. I just want you to slow it down, ok?" Sam looked pleadingly at him.

Dean looked skeptical.

"He's... he's been hurt enough. Please," Sam said, his expression clouded with guilt, his tone close to begging. "Please."

Sam wasn't sure that Dean was going to give the kid up at all, but he knew if they went in with guns blazing, they didn't stand a chance. He also knew that if he had to take any action, it would be the straw that broke the camel's back. He'd pushed things so far with his brother he was surprised he was still around. But this, Dean wouldn't be able to get over. This would be the end of them.


	13. Didn't Know I Was Lost

**Writer's Note**: This entire chapter is dedicated to elliereynolds777. She made a little request and to be honest, I wasn't sure I was going to be able to accommodate it. But I played around with the idea a little and this entire chapter, which would not have existed without her suggestion, was born. So if you have requests, don't hesitate. I can't promise to work them in, but you never know what kind of ideas you might inspire!

* * *

_So wake me up when it's all over_

_When I'm wiser and I'm older._

_All this time I was finding myself_

_And I didn't know I was lost._

_~Wake Me Up~ AVICII_

Dean carried Sammy inside and was surprised to find the room empty.

"Sam?" He called, forgetting that Sammy was asleep on his shoulder.

Sammy yawned and lifted his head.

"Sam, you here?" Dean asked, looking to the open bathroom door.

Sammy rubbed his eyes. "Where is he?"

Dean rubbed Sammy's back. He noticed the closed laptop on the table and wondered the same thing. "I don't know, buddy. Maybe he went out for coffee or something. He'll be back."

"Maybe he went out to walk because he's sad."

Dean stopped in his tracks and shifted Sammy so he could see his face. "What?"

"Whenever I'm sad, Dad always says to 'walk it off'."

"No- I mean..." Dean had a vague recollection their dad's old saying, but was more concerned with why Sammy had said it in the first place. "Do you think Sam is sad?"

Sammy nodded. "Are you mad at him?"

If Dean hadn't been shocked before, he certainly was now. "_What_? No! I'm not- Sammy, why do you-" Dean was so caught off guard he couldn't form a complete sentence. "Do you think Sam thinks that?"

"I don't know," Sammy shrugged. "Maybe."

Dean set Sammy down on the bed and then eased himself down on the other bed facing him. He chewed on his lip as he thought about what the kid was saying. An idea occurred to him then. Who would be able to read Sam better than... well, Sam? Though he was pretty sure the kid didn't have it quite right. Sam was more mad than anything else and he was probably toning it down around Sammy. And that would probably make him appear more sad than angry. "Well, I'm not mad at him. Not at all," Dean said softly, partly to Sammy and partly just thinking out loud.

Sammy was looking at Dean as though he was expecting more. Possibly a solution to Sam's sadness.

_Don't look at me, kid,_ Dean thought and cleared his throat. But he felt compelled somehow to ask, "So, what do you think I should do to help Sam... not be sad anymore?" How can I get him to stop hating me?

Sammy didn't even have to think about his answer. "He probably just needs a hug."

_Ok, _this_ was a dumb idea,_ Dean thought. "I don't think he wants one from me. And I hate to break it to you kiddo, but Sam's awful big for just a hug to fix his problems, don't you think?"

Sammy shrugged. "It always makes me feel better."

Something inside of Dean warmed at the thought that at least at one time, he was able to soothe away his little brother's problems so easily. He decided to try a different angle. "So... what if you were really mad at Dean? Would you still want a hug?"

Sammy laughed sleepily. "I'd never be that mad."

_Oh, kiddo, you have no idea_. "Well, what if Dean did something... something really, really bad, like, I don't know... like he broke something of yours and then he lied to you?"

Sammy looked at him. "Did you break something?"

Dean nodded.

"Can you buy another one?"

"No"

"Can you fix it?"

"I don't think so."

"What did you break?"

Dean hesitated. He took a moment to register that he was having this discussion with a five year old. Something inside him warned him that this was not an appropriate conversation to be having with a child, but if there was a way to get through to Sam, he would do anything to find it. And a part of him had been carrying this around so long, it felt good to let some of it out. So he decided, what the hell? And came up with an answer.

"I broke... his trust." Those were the words he decided on, but he couldn't help but feel that 'I broke his trust' was such a sugar coated version of what had happened that it could have been considered a flat out lie.

Sammy was quiet for a minute, processing what Dean had said. Even as young as he was, Dean had no doubt Sammy understood what he meant. "Did you lie to Sam, too?"

Dean cringed. This question and answer activity had gone a different way in his head. But he should have expected nothing less from this kid. He looked away, still biting at his lip and nodded.

Sammy climbed off the bed and into Dean's lap. "You should just tell him that you're sorry."

Dean wrapped his arms around the little boy and took a moment to steady his voice. "I wish it were that simple."

Sammy leaned back and looked at him again. "If you don't tell him you're sorry and you never give him a hug, he's probably going to just keep being sad."

Dean let out a watery laugh. "You are way to smart for your own good, you know that?"

Sammy looked away from him for a moment then asked, "Did Sam say mean things to you when you lied to him?"

Dean almost laughed again, but the stabbing pain he felt in his heart right then stopped him cold. _Yes_, he wanted to say. _He said horrible things, but I deserved it. I deserved every word. But still... it hurt like hell_. _It still hurts_...He composed himself quickly. "Now what would make you think that?"

Sammy looked guilty for a minute. "Because sometimes when I get mad at Dean... I say mean things to him." He lowered his voice to almost a whisper then. " I always feel really bad after."

"It's ok," Dean whispered back, rubbing Sammy's back.

Sammy leaned into him and yawned.

"You're tired, aren't you, buddy?"

Sammy nodded.

Dean stood up and laid Sammy down on the bed and pulled up the covers. "Why don't you close your eyes for a minute and I'll make you something to eat?"

Sammy sighed heavily. Then he drew in a shuddering breath and Dean heard a soft whimper.

"Sammy? Hey... are you crying?" Dean tried to lean back to see his face, but Sammy just burrowed deeper into the pillow, a soft sniffle his only answer.

"Sammy!" Dean picked him up again and wrapped his arms around the little boy who then started sobbing into his shoulder. "Buddy, what? What's the matter?" Dean whispered, running his hand over Sammy's hair. His initial reaction was a deep concern, bordering on panic at the sound of Sammy crying. But he realized after a moment that the kid must be completely exhausted. He'd been dumped off in a strange place away from his family and hadn't really had a good night's sleep... it was actually impressive that he'd been able to keep himself together as well as he had.

Sammy squeezed Dean's neck a little tighter and just cried. Dean leaned into him, trying to steady the heaving breaths as he felt little tears dripping down the side of his neck and soaking into the collar of his shirt.

"Sammy... Sammy, hey... it's ok, it's ok. Shhh... relax, I've got you. You're ok, you're just tired," Dean soothed, rocking him gently back and forth and holding him tightly as he choked on tears.

"I... said something... mean to Dean- right b-before..."

_Shit, _Dean berated himself. _Nice going._ _This isn't exhaustion. This is why you don't unload your problems on a kid_. "Shh... it's ok, it's ok..."

"Maybe... maybe he doesn't want to find me..."

"Sammy." _Oh, God... how can you have this doubt? _Dean sat him down on the bed and got down in front of him. He took his face in both hands. "Look at me. I told you this before and I'll tell you again- I _promise you_... there is nothing- _nothing_- he wants more than to find you right now. He's scared to death that you're missing, and as soon as he finds you, you're getting the biggest hug ever, you hear me? No matter what you said."

Sammy swallowed hard and tried to smile as he sat back and sucked in a shaky breath. His bottom lip still trembled as he struggled for control.

Dean thumbed a few tears off his cheek. "It's ok, buddy, I promise... everything is gonna be fine."

Sammy's tears had stopped and he averted his gaze.

"You ok now? You gotta stop crying, you're ripping my heart out, Sammy. You know that?" Dean drew him in and kissed the top of his head.

Sammy let out another soft whimper. "Where's my dog?" he asked sleepily.

"I think he's out in the car. Why don't you lie down and I'll go get him for you, huh?" Dean tucked him into the bed again and pushed the hair back off of his forehead. "Everything's ok, Sammy. You rest and I'll be right back."

Sammy's eyes were already closed.

Dean stood and headed out to the car. He ran a shaky hand over his face. _Brilliant, Dean_. He told himself. _That's the kind of conversation you have with a shrink, not a kindergartener!_ Where the hell was Sam?

He opened up the passenger side door and found the stuffed dog beside the car seat. As he headed back towards the door of their room, he heard it. A distant yell, coming from the woods.

It was faint, but unmistakeable. And it chilled him to the bone.

"Sammy! SAM!"

At first, he felt the ice forming in the pit of his stomach. Then he could barely move his legs. Even though he was outside, he felt as though the entire world was closing in, suddenly suffocating him.

He knew that voice. And he knew that _tone_ of voice. He knew where Sam was and he knew who was with him.

This was it. He had to make the call. And he had to make it now.

Dean staggered to the open doorway and looked over at his little brother, sleeping peacefully on the motel bed, completely unaware of what was going on.

All I'd have to do is get him to the car and go... Dean thought for a moment. I could take him and just drive...

* * *

"Hurt enough? What do you mean? What happened?" Dean asked.

Sam bit his lip and looked at the ground. When he looked up again, he noticed that Frank had wandered off and was examining some ferns at the base of a tree. Sam's eyes narrowed a bit as he watched the old man. A part of him was starting to hate Frank for putting him through all this.

"Well?" Dean was waiting for an answer.

Sam huffed and shook his head. "I've uhh... been kind of... kind of a jerk to him lately."

Dean smirked. "You mean a bitch?"

Sam tried to smile, but couldn't quite muster one. "Well... probably worse."

"Oh," Dean nodded. "So, more like a total dick."

Sam cringed and nodded, not really able to meet Dean's eyes.

Dean sighed, sounding more adult than was right for a ten year old. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll get over it."

Sam looked at him then, almost annoyed with the flippancy of Dean's response. "How do you know?"

Dean spread out his arms and gave him a look that clearly said, "Duh!"

Sam just rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, besides, he probably did something to deserve it, right?" Dean's eyes narrowed then. "What did he do to you?"

Sam's eyes widened at the sudden protectiveness coming from the kid. When he met his gaze, he could _see_ his older brother, not as a child, just as his brother. He saw the devotion, the faithful unconditional love that he was starting to fear he would never see again. He felt his eyes start to water slightly.

"See, there. That's all you gotta do right there," Dean shook his head and folded his arms.

Sam tilted his head, confused.

Dean stared at him, the corners of his mouth turning up almost imperceptibly. "I shouldn't even be telling you this."

Sam looked even more confused, but unknowingly, it just made the puppy dog look more intense. "_What_ do I have to do? What are you talking about?"

Dean rolled his eyes as though the answer was completely obvious. "That face. That... _thing_ you do. That look will just kill him every time. I can't believe you can still do it. So, I guess this means I gotta deal with this forever, then, huh?"

Sam's eyebrows knitted together then, creating the full effect for a brief moment. But then realization hit him and he forced a bit of a grin and looked down.

"Sam," Dean's look darkened then. His tone grew more serious as he reached over and gripped Sam's arm. "_What_ did he do to you?"

Sam pressed his lips together and looked back towards the edge of the forest. He thought about how he could answer this for a ten year old... He got a little over zealous trying to protect me? He told me I was more important to him than anything else in the world and begged me not to hurt myself? He made a split second decision in a life and death situation that I didn't like? Sam swallowed his remorse and sighed. He looked back at Dean and squared his jaw. "Nothing I can't forgive. C'mon. Let's go get your brother."

Dean narrowed his eyes a bit, clearly not completely comfortable with that answer.

Sam sighed. He looked at the ground, not wanting to say what he knew he was going to say anyway. Because he knew the answer. "You know... you could both...stay, if you wanted. You wouldn't have to go through... we could protect you-"

"Not your job, Sammy. Not your job-"

"That!" Sam growled as a rush of resentment surfaced suddenly. "That's what he did! And what he- what _you_ keep doing! It _is_ my job, Dean! Watching out for you, protecting you- I'm your brother, damn it! Why can you get it through your head that your safety is just as important to me as mine is to you?" Sam sucked in a breath, realizing he was dangerously close to tears and that the ten year old in front of him was seeming to just grow calmer the more worked up Sam got.

Dean just looked at him, his features almost tranquil as he waited patiently for Sam to compose himself.

Sam looked down and let out a soft laugh. "I was _such_ a jerk to him..."

Dean gave Sam's arm a reassuring squeeze.

Sam's heart melted as he looked back up at the young version of his brother wearing a gentle smile that was way too old for someone his age.

"Listen, Sammy and I will be fine... And so will you. Doesn't matter what you did."

"Dean-"

"There is _nothing_ you can do that he won't forgive."

Sam huffed and looked up, trying to keep the tears in. If this kid had any idea... Sam thought back to the demon blood, to Ruby-

Dean was still looking at him knowingly.

And Sam had to finally admit it that even though it had taken a little while that time, Dean had forgiven the worst betrayal Sam could have thrown at him.

"You will figure it out, ok? And don't try to tell me things change. 'Cause this doesn't. You hear me?" _Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you_...

Sam found himself gazing trustingly at the confident little face in front of him. He knew that tone of voice, the one that would state possibility as fact with enough assuredness that they would both believe it. And in that moment, he recognized it for what it truly was. 'We'll figure it out' was not a breakable promise made during a time of turmoil to bring about a false sense of security. It was a gently stated order: _Work with me_. Let's figure it out, give it our all and make it work.

Sam clenched his jaw and steadied his breath before meeting the kid's gaze directly. "You're an awfully old man for 10 years old, you know?"

"Well, I'd have to be. I'm the big brother no matter what and you're freaking ancient. Geez. I'm surprised your hair isn't gray yet. How old are you, anyway?"

"I told you what year it is, do the math, Einstien," Sam laughed and stood up.

"And not only are you _old_," Dean went on, ignoring him. "But you're still a total girl, you know that?"

Sam shook his head and started walking back towards the motel, Dean following at his heels and throwing out insult after insult to cover up any traces of emotion he might have revealed.

Sam wanted to hug him. Not only because he missed him so much, but also because he knew it would just really piss Dean off.

But he just kept walking.


	14. Another Home Somewhere

_There's another home somewhere_  
_That I close my eyes to see_  
_I will find you there_  
_You will know it's me_

_By my shield and sword_  
_By my soldier's heart_  
_We made it through the war_  
_We made another start_  
_Just beyond the trees_  
_Not so far I swear_  
_There's another turn that leads_  
_Towards another home somewhere..._

_Another Home ~ Mary Chapin Carpenter_

He lingered in the doorway, gazing at the boy nestled safely under the covers, safely in _his_ care. The sorrow welling up inside him was overwhelming. Every cell in his body was screaming at him- Protect him! Shelter him! Keep him safe!_ Don't let him go!_

But he knew he couldn't take Sammy away. They were coming for him and he knew he would have to let him go. It was going to kill him to do it, but he knew it was the right thing to do, because it would kill Sammy to stay.

He wiped the tears off his face that had suddenly started to fall and forced a bit of a smile. He took a breath and walked over to the bed, still not sure how he was able to get his legs to move.

"Sammy?" He leaned over the sleeping boy and gave his shoulder a gentle shake.

Sammy blinked sleepily up at him.

_Oh, God... I can't... _He pushed the hair back from Sammy's forehead. "Sammy... guess who's here?"

Sammy rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Sam? Is Sam back?"

Dean couldn't answer him. The constricting feeling in his chest was strangling him. He swallowed hard, and forced the smile again. He reached out his arms and Sammy climbed into them, nestling sleepily in the crook of Dean's neck as they headed outside.

They only got a few steps past the Impala when Dean saw them coming out of the woods. A man he didn't recognize, his brother... and a ten year old version of himself.

The young Dean started running when he saw them. Sam started to bolt after him, calling him back.

"Dean! _Please..._" Sam caught up to him and put a hand carefully on his shoulder.

"Sammy!" young Dean shouted, slowing down at Sam's request, but keeping his eyes glued to Sammy .

Dean felt Sammy go completely rigid in his arms as he twisted around at the sound of his brother calling him. "DEAN?" Sammy squirmed out of Dean's grasp and hit the ground running.

Dean grabbed his hand and cried desperately, "Sammy! Wait-"

Sammy turned his eyes up at Dean, still pulling away towards his brother and surprised that Dean was trying to stop him. The look he gave Dean was so piercing and so full of fear, Dean could hear the unspoken plea, _let me go_!

And that look was all he needed to know for sure he had no other choice. Dean closed his eyes, opened his hand and released his brother.

Sam could see him shatter from halfway across the parking lot the second he broke contact. And now young Dean was running again, having seen his counterpart grab his little brother.

"Dean! Dean!" Sammy cried.

Young Dean opened his arms and Sammy slammed into him, tears streaming down his face as he apologized over and over for not listening and how he'd never do it again.

Young Dean just wrapped him up in his arms, trying not to cry himself. "It's ok, kiddo, it's ok... are you all right?" He alternated between looking down at Sammy and glaring at man he would one day become.

Sammy nodded, still crying and choking out muffled apologies into Dean's shirt.

"I'm sorry too, Sammy... c'mon, it's all right. I'm not mad, I promise. I'm just glad you're ok."

Sammy pulled back from him then, wiping his eyes.

Young Dean smiled at him and ruffled his hair, making Sammy grin back at him.

Sammy glanced over his shoulder then and pointed to where Dean stood a short distance away. "His name is Dean, too! He helped me find you! An' he bought me toys and I got one for you! And we read books and ate apples and I had to ride in the _seat_-"

"Sammy, whoa, whoa! Slow it down, buddy," young Dean said, regarding his older counterpart suspiciously.

Sammy grabbed his hand and started dragging him across the lot now, presumably to make his introductions. Young Dean was taking reluctant steps along behind him.

Sam jogged over to them and got between the two kids and his brother. He crouched down and spoke to the boys. "Sammy, why don't you take Dean inside and you guys can get your stuff together, huh? I want to talk to my brother for a minute."

Sammy beamed at him then. "He's not mad at you. I asked him."

"W-what?" Sam asked, bewildered.

"I told him you probably just needed a hug. And that he should say he's sorry-"

Sam wasn't sure whether to laugh or be annoyed that Sammy had been pestering his brother, but he didn't have time to think about any of that right now. "Ok. Well, thanks... for that, I guess."

Sammy's face grew very serious then. He leaned towards Sam and lowered his voice. "If you said mean things to him, you should probably say you're sorry, too."

Sam cleared his throat and lowered his gaze. "Uhm... yeah. Yeah, I..." he swallowed and looked back up at young Dean.

"I got it," he said, realizing that Sammy seemed to have picked up on whatever was going on between these two. He took Sammy's hand and lead him into the motel room.

Sam watched them go and walked over to where Dean was leaning unsteadily against the Impala. He wanted to ask Dean if he was ok, but if ever there was a stupid question, that was it. He wanted to reach out to him, but after all that had happened he just didn't know how. Dean was difficult to reach under normal circumstances and tended to close up even more when he was in pain. Right now, he was in complete agony. He was losing his little brother and was under the impression that Sam didn't even consider him family anymore.

It was that thought that suddenly froze Sam in his tracks. The things Sam had said to Dean and the way Dean had interpreted them were suddenly sinking in and Sam was starting to get a clearer picture of the level of damage he had caused. Everything that made Dean who he was had to do with his connection to family. And Sam had taken that away. After that, Dean had been struggling along, barely keeping his head above water while Sam had been purposely keeping himself within sight, but just out of reach. Then Sammy had appeared like a tiny raft in the middle of the vast and lonely ocean Dean was drowning in. And now Dean was about to let him go. Sam considered this more deeply. Dean was about to _let him go_... The irony of the situation was not lost on Sam at all, but the guilt he wanted to suddenly wallow in was swallowed up almost instantly by the fear of what this was going to do to his brother. The brother who liked to pretend that he "didn't break that easy" was about to face complete emotional ruin.

Not knowing what else to do, he tried to at least offer Dean a better understanding of what was going on. He quickly tried to explain everything that he'd learned so far: that it was indeed Frank Dobbs who had discovered the portal and was moving between the universes, That he, too, was a Man of Letters and that he planned to bring the kids back safely, but it soon became apparent that Dean was hearing about half of what he was saying.

Finally, Dean raised his hand, stopping Sam in mid sentence. Dean didn't care about the facts. He knew enough about what was going on to know how this would all play out. "I need to... talk to him," he forced out, finally.

"Frank? Sammy?"

"... no."

_Dean. Oh... I don't know if this is a good idea, _Sam thought. But there wasn't much he would deny his brother at that moment. "Ok. I'll... I'll get him."

Reluctantly, Sam sent young Dean out to the parking lot and handed Sammy a plastic grocery bag to pack up his things. He stood next to the door, keeping it slightly ajar in case he needed to break up any situations that might occur during this face off.

The two of them were quiet for a moment, just staring at each other. It was Sam's Dean who broke the silence first.

"You can stay, you know,"

"Been through this already with your brother. No."

Dean rubbed his forehead as though trying to push back a headache. "It would be safer for both of you-"

"No."

"Listen to me," Dean demanded, his voice rising in desperation. "You don't know what's going to happen, the mistakes you're going to make. You can't-"

"Shut up! You don't know anything about us-"

"I know EVERYTHING about you! I know that you are going to screw things up in ways that you can't even begin to imagine. He's looking at you now like you have all the answers but some day he's gonna realize that _you don't_... someday he's gonna stop trusting you, and believe me, he's going to have his reasons. He's gonna look at you like he can't stand the sight of you! You need to... you need to stay here-"

Sam stood in the doorway, his mouth agape in shock.

"And leave Dad? Are you crazy? No way!"

"Believe me, if Dad knew everything that was going to happen, he'd tell you to stay! You're supposed to watch out for Sammy, right? Well, let me tell you, bang up job with that! You have no idea. You can't take care of him like you think you can! You _don't know what you're doing_!"

"Dean!" Sam hissed from the doorway, trying to make sure Sammy was not paying attention.

But the two of them ignored him.

"I know exactly what I'm doing!" young Dean shot back.

"Well, let me tell you- if you're so hell bent on going back then you damn well better listen up. Because I've got a list longer than Santa Claus on Christmas Eve of shit you need to know! Starting with Cold Oak- it's a place that you'd better tattoo on your brain somewhere. You tell him when he's old enough. You _make sure_ he does not turn his back, because if you think Stanford was the worst night of your life-"

"_Dean_! Stop it!" Sam glanced over his shoulder to make sure Sammy wasn't following him and went out into the parking lot.

Dean finally turned at the sound of Sam's voice and glared at him.

Sam softened his gaze and stepped forward. "They aren't going to remember any of this, Dean. I talked to Frank... they aren't going to remember."

And the hopelessness that passed across Dean's face right then was enough to rip Sam's heart to shreds. The full reality of the situation was hitting him. There was _nothing_ he could do to help them.

Young Dean was standing, arms folded defiantly just about ready to lay into his future self when Sammy came bursting out of the room waving a little toy car in the air. "I found it! I found it!" he shouted joyfully. He held the car out to young Dean. "I got this for you!"

"You did?" Dean's voice was shaky. Sam knew he was struggling to mask the built up tension from the conversation he'd just had. It was amazing to watch, really. This was a skill Dean had just about perfected as an adult, but at this stage of his life, he was still working on it and hadn't quite gotten the hang of it. Sam could see tears welling in his eyes.

Sammy was oblivious. He nodded in excitement. "_That_ Dean helped me pick it out!"

Sam crouched down beside them. "That's pretty cool! Why don't you go show _that_ Dean how the doors open up?" he said, hoping to secure a moment to speak with young Dean.

It didn't take much. Sammy scampered off towards where Dean was still bracing himself up against the side of his car.

Sam stood and lead young Dean a few parking spaces away from where they'd all been standing. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Young Dean glanced suspiciously over Sam's shoulder, then nodded, trying to mask a sniffle.

"I know this is freaking you out-"

"I want to take my brother home _right now_."

"I know, we're going to get you home, but do you think you can let him say goodbye? Think about this-"

"No, I'm not leaving Sammy alone!" he was adamant. He was in full protective big brother mode. This was not going to be easy.

"I'm not asking you to leave him alone. We'll all walk together, but maybe you could just let Dean carry him to the edge of the woods...please?"

"No!" Young Dean clenched his jaw and glowered, tears still rimming the edges of his eyes making the green irises even more intense.

"He took such good care of him while he was here, just like you would have. He's not going to hurt him. He's not going to try to keep him here," Sam said with finality. He was sure of it now.

Young Dean was watching the two of them apprehensively. Dean had crouched down to be at Sammy's level and they were playing together with the car. He could see the pain in the man's eyes as if it were his own.

Sam caught the slight softening in young Dean's face. "I know this goes against every fiber of your being, but try to think about what this would be like if you were him... I mean, what if this happens in your universe? There's nothing saying it won't... Wouldn't you want to be able to say goodbye?"

Young Dean stared at him, trying desperately to hold his ground, his voice trembling. "If he tries to take my brother, I will _kill_ him."

Sam held his gaze and didn't blink. "I know."

Young Dean squeezed his eyes shut in annoyed frustration. "Fine, but let's go, already!"

Sam nodded.

The two of them walked back over to Dean and Sammy.

Sammy ran to young Dean again and handed him the toy.

Sam felt a little bad, knowing the toys would most likely disappear if Frank was taking them back to a spot before all this happened. Not that the kids would remember. And he certainly didn't want the stuff sitting around where Dean could see it after this was all over.

"Thanks squirt. You ready to go home now?" young Dean asked, casting a defiant glance at his older self.

"Yes!" Sammy hopped up and down.

Young Dean sighed, taking the bag of toys and clothes. "You uh... want to walk with your friend so you can say goodbye?"

Sammy looked hesitant for a moment. His inclination was to stay by his brother's side. But he looked back at Dean and caught something in his gaze.

Sam watched, curious as an expression crossed Sammy's face that he almost wanted to describe as shocked recognition. He was certain that Sammy couldn't really comprehend the idea that Dean was the older version of his brother, but something in him sensed how desperately the older Dean needed him right then. Without a word, he walked over to Dean and lifted his arms.

Dean picked Sammy up and struggled to keep his composure as Sammy wrapped his arms around his neck and leaned into him.

Sam recognized the sudden shift in the little boy's posture. He'd realized the gravity of this situation and wasn't sure how to deal with it. He was going home with his brother and was elated about that. But...

"Ok," Sam said gently. "Let's go."

When they reached the edge of the woods, Dean did not look at Frank. He had no interest in talking to the man who had caused all of this. Part of him knew he should be grateful to have had this time with Sammy, but the pain of losing him was just too immense.

Frank seemed to understand this and made no attempt to try to converse with Dean, or Sam for that matter. He just walked solemnly beside them into the forest. The sky was darkening again and a light, cold sprinkling of rain was leaving a fine mist on everything it touched.

At the clearing in the trees, Sammy finally leaned back in Dean's arms and looked at him with big, tear-filled eyes.

"Hey," Dean said rubbing his back, flawlessly masking his own pain from everyone but Sam. "What's with the face?"

Young Dean started forward, but Sam put a hand on in shoulder. He was surprised that it actually stilled him.

Sammy's bottom lip trembled. He looked back towards his brother and then back at Dean. "Can you come, too?"

Sam watched as Dean's features nearly crumpled. His mask was slipping, which meant his grief was nearly unbearable.

Dean's younger counterpart tensed under Sam's hand. And Sam's stomach turned suddenly cold. Sam couldn't see the younger boys face, but he figured he was glaring daggers at his older self right now. Sam shot a desperate look at his older brother, suddenly terrified that Dean might actually consider going.

"Sammy," Dean said softly, rubbing the little boy's hair and looking away from the two sets of eyes boring into him. "Buddy, I can't go. I have to stay here."

"'Cause you have to take care of your little brother?"

That mask was slipping fast. Dean closed his eyes and swallowed. "We've... yeah. We've got some things we need to take care of."

Sammy whimpered and put his arms back around Dean's neck.

"It's ok," Dean whispered, lowering him to the ground

Sammy started to walk away, but then turned back and smiled. "Thanks for helping me find Dean!" he said, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck one more time.

Sam watched the pure agony on his brother's face as his eyes closed and he muffled a sob into Sammy's shoulder. He pulled himself together quickly and breathed wetly through his mouth. He held Sammy at arm's length. "You be careful. And remember what I told you. The most important thing. You remember?"

Sammy smiled impishly like they had a secret. "Right up to the moon? Forever."

Dean nodded, features composed once again. "That's my boy. Forever. No matter what." He let go of Sammy and ruffled his hair. "You go on back to your brother, ok?"

Sammy flashed him a full dimpled grin and ran off to the younger Dean who was watching this whole scene with raised hackles.

Sam just stared at his shoes, willing himself to breathe and forcing back tears.

Sammy wrapped his arms around young Dean and pressed his face into him. Young Dean held onto him watching both Winchester brothers for any sign that one of them would try to take Sammy back.

Frank had been carefully angling the shew stone and abruptly, a glowing, swirling doorway appeared. "Sam," he called.

Sam stepped cautiously over to him.

"I'm not planning to come back this time and this belongs with you," he said, handing the stone to Sam. "There are things in this world, secrets, artifacts, objects of great importance. A true Man of Letters knows the value of precious items and how to protect and care for them. I hope this is not the only thing of value that I am leaving you with," he said, staring knowingly at Sam.

Sam was so full of emotions, he could do nothing but look away from Frank and nod his head as he took the stone. He was angry and grateful and devastated all at once.

With a sad smile, Frank ushered the boys through the doorway and they were gone.

"Sammy!" Dean lurched forward and Sam caught him before he hit the ground.

The anguished cry that fell from Dean's lip cut through Sam like a knife. There was a brief silence, and then Dean finally sucked in air and broke free from Sam's hold.

"Dean," Sam whispered.

Dean staggered forward and dropped to his knees. What had he done? _What had he done_? It was like the pit all over again. And he'd just let him go. He couldn't breathe. It was like all the air was gone. He couldn't do this again. He couldn't! His vision went from blurred to little black spots. He started to pitch forward when he felt Sam's arms circle back around him.

He twisted away from Sam just in time and emptied the meager contents of his stomach on to the forest floor.

* * *

**Writer's Note**: I'm so, SO grateful to all of you taking the time to leave comments. I'm promising some serious bro-ments in the next few chapters! Let me know what you think!


	15. The Moon Ain't Gonna Rise in the Sky

"Dean? _Dean_!" Sam's voice was soft, but filled with desperation and panic. He still had his arms wrapped gently but firmly around his brother, keeping him from falling completely forward. The rain was falling softly all around them and a cold wind was starting to pick up. Dean was panting as he curled in on himself and Sam could feel him shivering. He was suddenly furious with Frank Dobbs for what Dean was going through.

"Mmfph... Sam... go..." Dean gasped as he tried weakly to push his brother's arms away.

"No. I'm not leaving you."

Stubborn bitch, whiney emo princess... none of the retorts even came close to surfacing because that part of Dean was so completely buried right then. There was not an ounce of smart-ass or sarcasm left in him to cover up what he was feeling. Everything had come to the surface and was lying out in the open, completely raw and exposed. The tears welled up and spilled over the rims of his eyes, running in steady rivulets down his cheeks. The reality of what he had done, what he had almost done, and God, _what he had lost_ pressed down on him, constricting his airway, making his head spin and wrenching his stomach into knots. He doubled over again, heaving up nothing but bile from his empty stomach, gasping for air.

"Easy, easy... come on, breathe, Dean..." Sam whispered, one arm under his chest, one hand rubbing his back. "I've gotcha, it's ok...I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Dean could hear the kindness in Sam's voice and wanted to believe it. The gentleness of a concerned little brother, so much like... before. He put the thought out of his head. Now that he had an idea of what he'd actually done to Sam, he was no longer concerned with finding any trace of that familial bond. He understood now why Sam couldn't consider him family anymore. He understood. But what else was he saying? Sam was sorry? Is that what he said? _Sam_ was sorry? No-

"S-stop... stop it, S-sam." Dean choked out in a frustrated gasp. But those were the only words he could get out. He realized then, horrified, that he was sobbing. And Sam had turned him around and pulled him into his shoulder. And Sam was _still_ apologizing. And Dean couldn't stop him because he couldn't talk. All he could do was cling to his brother as waves of agony washed over and over him until he was sure he would drown. His fists clutched at the fabric of Sam's shirt, not wanting to hold on, but somehow knowing that if he let go, he would die.

Sam just held him and kept whispering to him that it was ok. He'd seen Dean at his worst before- filled with rage, scared, ripped apart with grief. But there was nothing he'd ever seen that compared with this, except maybe when Dean had been describing his time in hell, and even then he'd been trying to pull himself back together after a few minutes. But now it just seemed like he was so physically and emotionally exhausted that he didn't have the strength to do it. His brother was broken. Destroyed. And with gut wrenching horror, Sam realized that this was what he had thought he'd wanted all along, to hurt Dean as much as Dean had hurt him. He hadn't really stopped to think about the fact that he would never, _never_ want his brother to feel this way, especially at Sam's own hand. Sam had wrestled with his anger and his guilt the entire time Sammy had been with them. He had tried to hold on to the anger because the things Dean had done to him had been inexcusable. The violation of his body with the angel possession, the broken trust, the lies, _Kevin_... even thinking about it now churned Sam's stomach. He would eventually need to make sure that Dean understood why he had been so angry.

Sam paused for a moment and considered this. It was possible that Dean would never really get it. And suddenly in that moment, Sam knew that didn't matter. It didn't change the fact that right now, all he wanted was to take away Dean's pain. All of it. He needed Dean to know that he was still his brother and always would be. He needed Dean to know how sorry he was for hurting him. They could try to work through everything that had been broken and damaged later, but his forgiveness and the care of his brother was not conditional. He loved him way too much for that. Screw you, Frank Dobbs.

Dean could hear Sam talking, but he couldn't process what he was saying fast enough to keep up. Eventually, he stopped trying. He caught a few words here and there, but it only added to his confusion. His head hurt. All of him hurt. And he just couldn't muster the energy to sort out the meaning of words right now. But he could process tone of voice, and Sam didn't sound angry or distant. He knew that probably meant Sam was putting up a good front to get him to calm down.

Sam had his face pressed up against the side of Dean's head, his mouth angled so he was whispering quietly right up against Dean's ear.

"... not gonna hurt you anymore, big brother... so sorry... I'm here... not gonna let you go, ok?"

Dean could feel Sam's arms around him, feel himself completely enveloped by his little brother and he wanted so badly to believe that this nightmare was over, but he knew better. There was no way Sam would ever forgive what he'd done. How could he?

He had no idea when the mist had turned to rain and sleet. He had no idea when Sam had finally lifted him off the ground and helped him walk back to the motel. When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the bed, soaking wet and shivering. His boots were off and lying on the floor, a towel was under his head keeping the pillow dry. He closed his eyes again immediately, not ready to face his brother after what he'd done. And Sam was right there. Dean felt the gentle hand just under his ribcage, the thumb rubbing back and forth. He felt a soft cloth pressing softly on his forehead and then over his hair... and then wiping away tears that he didn't know had fallen.

"Dean..." Sam whispered, knowing he was awake. "I know you don't want to talk right now and that's ok... I'll leave you alone. I just want you to know I'm here, ok? And I'm not going anywhere."

He couldn't open his eyes because he knew he could not look at Sam. Not after what he'd done. He wanted so badly to tell him how sorry he was, but he didn't think there were words that existed that could describe how badly he felt.

Sam's hand was still on his belly, rubbing gently, kneading out the excruciating knots that had formed across his middle. It was easing the ache, but he wished Sam would stop. He didn't want to feel better. He didn't deserve to. He just wanted to die and he was pretty sure he would if Sam would just leave him alone. Maybe this was payback for not letting Sam die when he wanted to, Dean thought to himself. Payback was always a bitch.

But, one by one, the lines of pain etched in his forehead started to fade, and finally, he turned and looked at Sam.

"Hey, you back with me?" Sam asked shakily.

Dean just blinked up at him. There wasn't an ounce of energy left in him.

"We gotta get some food in you, man. When was the last time you ate something?" Sam asked, trying to sound annoyed, but ending up sounding more scared than anything else.

Dean just closed his eyes again and tried to block out the sound of someone giving a damn.

Sam wasn't expecting an answer, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Dean hadn't eaten anything other than a bite of pizza and possibly an apple slice in days. And he knew he was running on no sleep for longer than Sam could really calculate. Compounded most likely with a bit (or more) of dehydration and certainly with the stress of everything else going on, his body was just done.

"Hey," Sam whispered, his tone suddenly demanding. "C'mon. I know you don't want to think about food right now, but you are going to drink this."

Dean felt his head being lifted again and something cold pressed to his lips. He tried to turn his head away.

"No-no-no... come on, Dean, just a little, ok? Please?"

He didn't want to feel better. But something in him was desperate for water and seconds later he gave in and drank.

"Slow- slow, ok? I'll give you more in a minute if you keep this down. Ok, there..." Sam lowered his head again. "Now, I'm going to lift you up just a bit and get this wet shirt off and then you can rest, ok? Can you help me out here?" Sam had already shed his own wet clothes and found something dry to put on. He'd turned up the heat, but he was still cold and his brother was shaking.

Dean sat up, keeping his eyes downcast and Sam leaned in to help him peel off the wet outer layer of clothing.

_Leave me alone, Sam. Leave me alone... I can't... Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't-_

As soon as Sam got close to him, he heard the hitched breath and felt the shudder. He pulled the wet flannel off of Dean's arms in one swift motion and pulled Dean into his chest. The quiet sobbing started all over again. Sam noticed that Dean only clutched at the front of his shirt. He wouldn't actually put his arms around Sam. Sam knew he was trying as hard as he could to stay closed up even as he was falling apart. After the pain of losing Sammy and after the hurtful things Sam had said to him, Sam considered it a small miracle that Dean was even letting Sam anywhere near him.

"Dean," he whispered. "I know, I know. It's ok, let it out... I'm here. You did the right thing, Dean. I know it was awful, but you had to let him go, ok? You did good, bro."

_No,_ Dean thought. _That's not... _ It wasn't just losing Sammy, it was losing _Sam_ and now realizing why. Dean swallowed wetly, choked back the broken sobs for a moment and forced out as much of a sentence as he could. He had to tell him... "Sam... n-no... S-sorry. 'm sorry..." Even as the words left his mouth, sounding desperate and sincere, he knew it was not enough. It could never be enough. There was nothing he could say that would ever make up for what he'd done.

"Hey... what are you talking about- Dean, what did he do to you?" Sam asked alarmed that maybe something had happened that he didn't know about. Maybe Frank had paid a visit to Dean too, maybe he'd done something to Dean that Sam wasn't aware of. _Something_ awful must have happened, Sam thought, because he'd never heard the desperate, mournful tone of voice coming from his brother. He was so freaked out he wasn't even listening to what Dean was saying. He pushed Dean back frantically and took his face in both hands. "What happened?"

Dean leaned towards him, more to avoid his gaze than to retreat back into the safety of Sam's arms, as Sam interpreted it, but either way, he was able to hide his face again. He clutched more tightly to Sam's shirt, wishing that Sam would just get mad at him, push him away, anything other than sheltering him in the comforting arms he did not deserve. And Sam wasn't hearing him... he had to make him understand. He tried to steady his breathing and was finally able to gasp through mouthfuls of tears, "What... what I did... to _you_...'m sorry, Sam."

And Sam got it then. And he was stunned. He wrapped his arms more tightly around his brother, suddenly not knowing what to say to him. "Ok, ok..."

Dean continued struggling for control. He couldn't even get one steady breath of air into his lungs.

"Dean, come on...Oh, geez, you're freezing," Sam whispered feeling the tremors that shook his brother. He pulled the blanket up around Dean, keeping a secure hold on him the whole time.

"Sam- I didn't..." I didn't what? I didn't mean to? I didn't know? What could he possibly say that would fix this? There was nothing, and with that realization, Dean finally found enough strength to weakly push against Sam's chest.

"No, you don't," Sam scolded gently, pulling Dean back against him, holding him firmly. "Settle down, settle down. Breathe. I'm not letting you go, ok? Not till you relax. And warm up a little."

But Dean couldn't relax. He felt as though he were suffocating. The room was still spinning and he couldn't think straight long enough to formulate an attempt at a decent, though most likely worthless apology to Sam. He was coming apart at the seams and Sam wouldn't let him go. He kept trying and completely failing to tell Sam what he needed to tell him.

Sam just kept his hands pressed steadily against Dean's back and shoulders, murmuring softly to him and trying to soothe Dean's frantic attempts to talk that were just going nowhere. Finally, he raised his voice just enough to get his insistence across. "Dean, Dean! Ok, no... stop... we're not gonna talk about this right now, ok?" because you are a freaking _mess_. "Later... later. Right now we're just gonna calm down and get warm, ok? Shh... come on, come on... it's ok..."

Eventually, Dean had no energy left to fight him. He sank into his brother's shoulder, just wanting to die. Fortunately, he had no energy left for the sobbing to continue either, so he just lay there quietly, tears streaming silently from his eyes as Sam swayed ever so slightly back and forth.

"Ok, there you go. That's better. Now I need you to listen to me, ok?" Sam said softy, feeling the heaving breaths finally starting to lessen. He tried with some difficulty to push Dean back and take him by the shoulders. Dean kept his head bowed as tears dripped onto the bed. Sam tried to meet his eyes, but Dean wasn't having it. "I forgive you, ok? I do. I-"

"No," Dean, choked breathlessly, suddenly adamant. "You can't-"

"Oh, yes I can. And I already did," Sam said firmly, squeezing the back of Dean's neck.

Dean still wouldn't look at him. He just kept shaking his head and tried to say something that sounded suspiciously like "how?", but it came out in more of a wet gasp for air.

Sam took his face in both hands and forced Dean to look at him. "Because you're my _brother_. And I love you. You hear me?"

Dean bit his lip and closed his eyes, his face crumbling as Sam pulled him forward against his chest. Dean used every bit of strength he had to stop the tears from starting up again, but he couldn't stop shaking. _Don't tell me that... Don't say it if you don't mean it... I can't..._

"Right up to the moon and all the way back, just like Sammy asked you. Yeah...I was awake for that. Hurt like hell, by the way, when you didn't answer him, you know that? But I get why you couldn't. I've been a total dick to you for the past few weeks and I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

"Sam," Dean managed to breathe out. His tone indicating the rest of what he couldn't say: _how are you apologizing to me, you idiot?_

Sam huffed. "I suppose I can forgive you all I want, but you're not going to forgive yourself, are you? Would it help to have some kind of punishment?" Sam asked, cautiously trying out a little humor. "Something just absolutely unbearable? Because I do plan to make you talk about this later, and I know how much you love caring and sharing...would that be severe enough?" He gave Dean a gentle shake as he felt him stiffen slightly. If he could just light that angry fire, just a little... "I promise, I'll make it really awful, like, worst chick flick moment ever. Would that be punishment enough? Could you maybe forgive yourself then?"

Dean just leaned back and blinked at him. He didn't answer, but something in his eyes told Sam that although he really wasn't up for this kind of banter right now, he understood the tone Sam had intended.

Sam sighed. "I'm not mad anymore, Dean. I'm just... concerned. There are still some things I'd like to hash out with you. And I've got some stuff that I... owe you an explanation for, too. But I mean it. You're forgiven and you're still my big brother, ok?"

Sam cautiously pulled him forward again, aware that Dean would most likely not tolerate much more comforting even when he was so completely distraught. Sam was already amazed that he hadn't put up more of a fight. Dean still made no move to hug him back, but Sam knew this kind of emotional breakdown would mortify his brother and cause him to withdraw even further into himself if he weren't out of his mind with grief and guilt. Of course, if he was even somewhat with it right now, it probably wouldn't have happened in the first place.

Dean kept his arms curled tightly around his middle, clutching the blankets now instead of Sam. He took Sam by complete surprise though, when he lowered his head slightly, then slowly and cautiously tucked it under Sam's chin. Then he leaned into him, exhausted. Sam hid his shock and just held him, his heart breaking over the vulnerability Dean was displaying. Sam shifted around after a minute so he was leaning up against the headboard of the bed, reclining slightly in hopes that Dean might relax enough to fall asleep.

But instead, Dean drew in a deep, shaky breath. "I- I l-let him... go..."

Sam let out a sympathetic sigh. "I know... and I know this is killing you, but you did the right thing, Dean. You did. You had to let him go, and you did it. I'm really proud of you for that," Sam said quietly. "It was the right thing to do. He's with the person he loves more than anything else in the world. No matter what else happens, he's with his brother and I can tell you for sure, Dean, that's what he wants."

"I don't... I don't get it, Sam..." Dean finally managed to utter, his voice weak, barely above a whisper and definitely on the verge of sleep.

"What don't you get?" Sam asked gently.

"This lesson he was trying to teach them. If they aren't even going to remember-"

"Dean," Sam whispered, holding his brother against him tightly. "The lesson wasn't for them, ok? The lesson was for _me_. It was for me, Dean. And I get it. And I'm so sorry you had to get dragged though this just so I could get the message."

Dean just made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Something about what Sam was saying was really important, and he knew there was something he should tell him, but his mind was so clouded with exhaustion that he just couldn't make sense of what it was. Now that he was finally warm, he was fighting the pull of sleep and losing. He tried to utter _something_, but didn't get far.

"Shh...It's ok..." Sam rubbed his back, still surprised that Dean wasn't backing away or letting go. He was actually letting Sam hold him.

"Sammy..."

"I know... I know..." Sam soothed, knowing with a pang of jealousy that Dean was not calling out to him, but agonizing the loss of his baby brother.

Dean mumbled something that Sam couldn't make out that may have just been a soft, almost asleep whimper.

Sam blinked back the tears that had been forming in his own eyes. He was keeping it together, but just barely because he knew that was what Dean needed him to do right now. He kept up the gentle circles he was rubbing on Dean's back with his thumb. The shivering had finally stopped and the breathing was becoming slower and more even. "It's ok," Sam murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You need to sleep, now. I'm here, big brother... I'm right here. And I'm not gonna leave you."

* * *

**Writer's note:** More fluff ahead! Hope you're ready! I'm unloading all my pent up Season 9 angst into these last few chapters. Anyone up for a Sam breakdown next? Thanks for your comments!


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